"Open Minds"
By: Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations
Lt. Saavar - Science

Location: Saavar's quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate 57908.14, 00h20

***

Shirik had taken the time to make an appointment with Saavar in advance this time, rather than showing up unexpectedly at his door. After the recent excitement in her life, she decided she could use another lesson in meditation techniques, which she would put to good use.

Dressed just as she would be for duty, she rang the chime to his quarters and waited for the doors to open before stepping inside.

They opened with Saavar's spoken command inside the room. This time the room was totally dark save for a single flame from the lamp in the centre of his redwood table. He sat as was his custom - on a cushion at the table, kneeling. He gave the Drokari a small bow of greeting and waved a hand at the opposite side of the square table.

"Welcome, Ensign Lektar," was all he said.

It took only a moment for her eyes to adjust, her vision slipping into the infrared spectrum. His form was warm and red, his features lit by the candle flame. She nodded in greeting and made her way to take her place at the table opposite him. "Good evening," she said quietly, the darkness making her automatically lower her voice.

He did not smile. Like a stone mask his face was truly expressionless. He sat with hands inside his robe sleeves and indicated the flame with a slight inclination of his head. "We shall begin," he said in a quiet voice. "Concentrate upon the flame. Use it as your focus."

Tuned to the infrared spectrum, Shirik could see the contours of colour, greens to deep orange that made up the Vulcan. He was hotter than her last visit, glowing in reds and yellows, yet his whole manner was considerably colder.

She studied him for a moment, noticing the differences and wondering at their cause. She turned her attention to the flame, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. In the darkness it was easy to focus on just that and not be distracted.

Saavar stared at her. Concentrating as she was he let the contours of her features sink in to his perception. He admired her appearance, but the slight emotional reaction that he had had the last time she was here was gone. His s'at training was enforced now. He could no longer allow any emotional interference. It was the only way he could stay sane. His dream with Xayella had been disturbing to the point that it had taken a whole night and day to meditate to a state of equilibrium. He was pleased with Shirik's focus. She was a quick study and had persevered on her own to a point where she was ready for the next step.

Shirik stared into the candle flame, emptying her thoughts as she'd been practicing. The atmosphere of the room was calming, and helped her focus. She waited in silence for Saavar to continue the lesson. He reached out once more and placed two fingers against her hand, establishing the telepathic contact. His first observation was that her mind was a blank slate. He was pleased. He remained patient and sure enough her perception began to colour with the tones of his skin. She tried to avoid it but in doing so only enforced it. The contact of his fingers against her skin was an outside influence that was hard to ignore.

This was her next phase of training. The hardest phase of all. The mind is a single point of reference, he thought upon her mind. You must now begin to close your physical self from your mental self. Concentrate upon nothing, shift your focus away from physical sensation and attempt to isolate your mind. Find the secure place from which all sensation is void. In that place, when you find it, will become a refuge against sensations of pain or discomfort.

She noted curiously the difference in the contact from their last meeting, when he had touched her face instead of her hand. At his touch, she did notice both in the edge of her vision and with her own skin.

She nodded slowly, knowing what he said was true, it was something taught even back home. But it was harder for her to ignore sensations that weren't painful, her natural instinct was to welcome them, and his touch seemed to her gentle. Taking another slow deep breath and letting it out, she closed her eyes to cut off visual distractions and tried once more to narrow her focus, conjuring in her mind the image of the black cube.

This is different, he thought at her. Do not focus on imagery. Find a place within you and retreat there. From here, you can do many things. I will teach you to resist pain, discomfort and most methods of torture.

Those all sounded like handy things, but she wondered why he was going to teach them to her. Meditation was what she originally thought she'd come to learn. But this did sound very useful, especially when she returned home. She supposed she might use it to resist temptations, too, if she really wanted to.

She dispelled the image of the cube, emptying her mind once more. A place within her.... Did she have such a place? She tried focusing inward, tried to withdraw from her surroundings the way she used to as a child, when she was angry or upset.

We all have such a place, he thought. It is most useful in resisting temptation, he added dispassionately. The brief mental image of T'Kal had been linked with her impressions of temptation.

She inwardly cringed, embarrassed at what she'd revealed. It made her focus slip, and she sighed softly as she started over again, emptying her thoughts and pushing the touch on her hand out of her perception. Have you ever had to resist temptation? she whispered.

Of course. There is no need for embarrassment. Saavar kept a very tight control of his mental projections but his method of contact was a light merging of the mind and a dark haired female was revealed momentarily. Temptation is all around us. Whether you respond to it or not is the deciding factor. I believe he is in a relationship.

She took some comfort in that. She didn't think of Vulcans as people who could be tempted. Not all around us... She certainly didn't find much of anyone else on board all that tempting. She sighed as her concentration collapsed. Yes... He is.

I believe that Starship Officers should not engage in fraternization. Especially within the high ranking structure of a vessel. The image of the dark haired woman came into focus again, this time the image of the captain was clearly with her. Saavar was troubled by the lapse in concentration and emotional upheaval and that translated across their link.

Maybe so, she said, although she didn't share that belief. Although the image itself was unclear, its meaning wasn't. I guess we're both in the same boat, so to speak. Oddly enough, she found she liked communicating this way with him. It lent a sense of privacy to the conversation, and she instinctively felt that she could trust him, that nothing revealed would ever go beyond him. She silently made that same promise to him.

Thank you, he thought. Your assumption is correct. I will not reveal our shared discussions. He paused, a momentary mental void before his mind again focused. Do you find Humans acceptable as mates? His mental tone was curious, yet the whole idea was apparently repugnant to the Vulcan. It was at odds with his clear vision of the Human female.

She smiled in spite of herself. She would have thought the answer obvious. T'Kal was half human. Yes. I think any race is acceptable for that, as long as they're...physically compatible. She was surprised by his repugnance, a display of emotion on his part, but could always blame it on his Romulan half. Besides, she knew it wasn't unheard of for Vulcans to take human wives. Why do you find them otherwise? Now he'd awakened her curiosity, and all thought of meditation was lost.

I find them distinctly chaotic in thought and emotion. I realize that that statement in itself is a generalization and I know that there are members of the species that have mated with Vulcans successfully. There was bitterness rising in his mind. However I personally find those I have met to be...not stimulating. The image of the woman came back stronger this time and there were definite sexual overtones to the image. Intellectually, he amended. He seemed to be struggling, trying to deny his emotions and trying to lock them away.

Well, of course they are, they're human, she said. When it comes to sex, you can't expect a lot of logical thought. She couldn't help but be amused by his amendment, as if his own mind were disagreeing with him. But she sobered at the struggle she sensed, not knowing if that was normal, if something were wrong, and not daring to invade his privacy by asking. The last thing she wanted to do was offend him, or embarrass him as she had been earlier.

I thank you for your thoughts on the matter, he directed at her. You do not offend me, nor do you embarrass me. You are quite correct. When it comes to matters relating to procreation and mating for the sake of pleasure, there is little in the way of logical thought. You are perceptive to sense the struggle between mind and body. You have a sharp intellect. She could feel that he was trying to rationalize something that wasn't rational. I apologize for embarrassing you, he added. It was not my intention. I - struggle with a concept which is alien to me. It is affecting my concentration and discipline. Perhaps it is not a good time to continue your training, Shirik.

Perhaps not... But perhaps instead I might help you in some way, with your struggle? She had no idea what the problem was, but her offer to help was genuine. After all, he was helping her. And his problem intrigued her. Perhaps her perceptions about Vulcans weren't entirely realistic, but all she knew about them was what she heard, all the misconceptions that even Vulcans themselves propagate, making them seem superior, invulnerable, resistant to everything and touched by nothing. To see Saavar having a struggle within himself was contrary to what little she'd known about Vulcans.

Saavar seemed to ponder this for a long while, his mind a closed room. He did not 'disconnect' his mental link with her, only allowed it to continue in silence and contemplation, as if waiting for the ripples to die down on a still pond of thought. Drokari and Vulcan are similar in kind, he began. Your offer is appreciated. It is unfortunate that as a Vulcan I am not able to seek assistance from my own kind. We are now cut off from my home, and my family. His mental tone was coloured with pain. My mental bond with my life mate T'Sirra of Vulcan has been unintentionally severed. I find myself through an unfortunate act of goodwill, unintentionally bonded to a Human female aboard this ship. It brings me distress.

The pieces of the puzzle began to come together. Bonded to the Captain's woman? A bad scenario no matter what way you looked at it. She waited for him to go on, not sure what, if anything, she could do to help that sort of situation. Yes indeed, he replied. The captain's woman. The admission was painful and in most respects embarrassing as it admitted that Saavar was not as skilled as he thought he had been. I attempted a difficult mind meld with Xayealla Tagliesh in order to find the assassin who had attacked the captain on Risa. I was momentarily overwhelmed by her state of emotions. I was successful in discovering the assailant, however, it came at a cost. He sighed inwardly. I am mate bonded to a woman I despise in every way.

It is not logical to despise anyone, she reminded him. Can nothing be done to sever this bond? She knew little about telepathy other than the kind her mother wielded, and so could offer no real advice to him in that regard.

Saavar's flash of irritation at being corrected about his ill use of emotion being illogical died away as quickly as it started. You are once again correct, he thought. I do not know how to sever the bond, he admitted frankly. Her emotions are beginning to disrupt my discipline. She dreams, and pulls me into her fantasies, and I cannot help but respond. She is an ever-present irritation. I am drawn to her as she is to me through the bond, and the sharing of thoughts that we endured. I know her mind as she knows mine, and it pulls us together. Soon it will come a time that being together will be unavoidable. The deep thoughts of the Blood Fever were there for her to see. He was afraid of it. A seven year cycle that demanded his whole being respond or die.

She was shocked. She hadn't known this about Vulcans before, and that he laid it out there for her to see, trusted her that much, touched her. It only strengthened her resolve that she would never repeat anything she learned.

Then, there is no choice? You must mate with her? Does the Captain know? His fear was disturbing. A Vulcan fearing something. It was a concept she'd never thought about before.

No, he thought. She is aware...she is a Science Officer and is aware of Vulcan physiology. She has chosen not to divulge the situation to her mate. I do not know how to proceed. It is a very private thing shared between Vulcan mates. The Blood Fever is...literally a life or death situation. If I do not mate when the condition arises, I will simply die.

Then there is no choice, she said. She saw no way around the situation, and it promised to be hurtful to all involved. She also saw no way she could help him.

There are other choices, but that would involve a master of Vulcan mind melding techniques. I cannot simply re-establish a bond with my mate, she is in another Quadrant. The Blood Fever should not occur until we return from this voyage. That is why I am here, otherwise I would not have left Vulcan. However, I feel that the woman's emotional instability is upsetting the natural order of things. I am already responding to the fever dreams. It is a precursor to the onset of the Blood Fever. I estimate another few months are all that I have remaining. An error on my part, my failure cannot compromise the mission of this vessel, or the stability of its captain. I must refrain from mating. I see no other choice.

But you can't, she frowned. You said you'd die. Surely nobody would want that, especially the Captain.

It is a personal choice I make. I would rather die than mate with Xayella Tagliesh.

That sounded rather harsh to her. But then, if she had to mate with her most hated enemy or die, what would she choose? It would be a difficult decision, that was for sure. There must be another way. What about the holodeck? Couldn't you use that, maybe? She was just casting about for ideas now, at a loss.

There are no emotional equivalents in a holodeck. Vulcans' seven year cycle is a profoundly emotional state. Where logic fails us and our pre-civilized emotional states emerge. Faced with mating with the captain's female, I would fight him to the death should he try to intervene, and I would win. I am physically superior in every way. The man would not survive. It would be a matter for the Blood Fever to take Xayella also - she would be affected similar to myself, although she would not have my fate. I do not know the answer to this riddle. I will not debase myself with her. The answer was clearly a final one for the Vulcan. He would rather die screaming than mate with Tagliesh. She wasn't just Human...she was...Tagliesh.

The situation was even more serious than she imagined. People dying over sex. It seemed crazy. It seemed to her the Captain had the right to know, if it meant the death of even one crewmember. What if there was an emotional equivalent? she asked, trying to think how it could be managed.

I do not know, he simply stated fact. He didn't know. He had only gone through three previous cycles, and only ever with T'Sirra. He was young for a Vulcan - and inexperienced in these matters. I do not know.

Neither do I, she said. But I will think on he problem. There has to be some way.... She opened her eyes to look at him across the candle. But I think the Captain has the right to know, Saavar.

It is her prerogative to tell her mate, not mine. Her relationship with him is her own private concern. He opened his eyes to look upon Shirik Lektar and for a moment she seemed almost Vulcan. She also wishes to avoid this event, he thought.

There's more to it than that. She watched him evenly across the table. If you die, that affects the ship, and that's the Captain's responsibility. If one of his crew is in danger of death, he has the right to know as commanding officer. She let him think about that.

That will be for Lieutenant Tagliesh to discern. She is the Chief Science Officer of this vessel. It is her responsibility. If she decides to act upon her responsibility at the risk of her personal relationship then she will at least fulfill her command function. It will be an interesting test of character. Saavar's lips curled in a slight smile.

She couldn't help it, she rolled her eyes. She didn't know the woman at all, but from what she'd heard about her, character wasn't one of her strong points. She was worried. Now that she herself knew all this, did she owe a responsibility to the command staff? Was there some regulation that required her to tell someone? If Saavar died and she never said anything, wasn't she partly to blame? Would she be court martialled? Thrown out of Starfleet? Maybe so, but she wouldn't break her promise to Saavar. She closed her eyes once more with a sigh. What a mess.

Yes, he thought back at her. Character is not one of her strong points. Perhaps this situation might instill in her a lesson of some kind. There are always consequences to anything one does. Should you choose to keep this information private, you will not be implicated. How I live - or how I die is of my own choosing. Truly I am warmed by your thoughts. Thank you.

She opened her eyes once more, and moved her free hand, laying it lightly atop his fingers that were touching her. That is no way to die. We need to find a way for you to live.

Saavar's eyes fell upon her hand covering his green-tinged flesh. She was dark skinned, like many Vulcans, but a shade darker still. The mental contact was warm, her tone showing that she was concerned for him. I am inexperienced in these matters, he admitted. I do share your desire for my life to continue. However, I see no choices other than mating with a female who truly does not wish to do so. I cannot force myself upon her, nor can I contemplate doing so. I will endeavor to overcome the onset of the condition with medication.

She nodded, but that didn't sound very promising to her. She thought about the other Vulcans on board. All of them were half something else, and young too, likely of no real help to him in this either. She knew if anything medically could be done to help, the CMO would be very capable of finding it. Then you should probably go speak to Dr. Sefton soon, she said.

This is a Vulcan matter, he thought. A private matter. I have no intention of speaking to Doctor Sefton. His mind's tone indicated that this too was not negotiable. I will replicate the drugs I will require. I hope to stay the fever until we return to the Alpha Quadrant. I will then return to Vulcan.

Vulcan stubbornness and secrecy is why you're in this mess to begin with, she thought. If Vulcans were more open about this, there would be information available so that people like you - young, separated from more experienced Vulcans - would have somewhere to turn for help instead of having to face death. She frowned. He wasn't making it any easier on himself.

It is our nature, he thought. Privacy is a part of our culture. It has served us well. Saavar looked into her violet colored eyes and noted that they were the same color as Benedict T'Kal's. The imagery of his face and hers brought a reaction to the Drokari woman. He raised his free hand, and the thought of a mind meld entered his consciousness, but he was uncertain. The episode with Tagliesh had shaken his own faith in his abilities.

He eyes flicked to the movement of his hand, and she caught the idea. Her eyes flicked back to him, now guarded. She trusted him, but part of her nature was paranoia. It served her people well, when assassination attempts were a fact of life. She didn't need to voice her own thoughts, wondering why he would want to meld with her. For what purpose?

His hand dropped once again to his lap. It had been a momentary thought, an impression that he wanted to share more, but he also realized that she would be forced to do the same. She did not trust his motives and so it was out of the question. Perhaps another time, he thought. He trusted her instincts. It would be best not to proceed and their progress with her goal of strengthening her mind would best be served by not melding. When you feel more capable I may be able to assist you more directly by showing you.

Curiosity was another strong fact of her personality; she had the desire to explore and learn new things that anyone has who goes into space. Showing me what? she asked.

The orderly structure of logical thought, Saavar nodded. Sa't training and the means to segregate thoughts. It would assist you to find the isolated part of your mind that we were trying to reach earlier.

The shift in topic back to meditation took her offguard. Oh. She removed her free hand from his, back to its former position. I'm not sure I can effectively get back into our lesson now after what I've learned. It's a lot to absorb...

Yes, he thought simply. Another time then. He removed his fingers from her hand and the mental bond severed. "Thank you for your friendship. It is most appreciated," he said softly with a slight inclination of his head. "I look forward to our next session."

She nodded and gracefully rose to her feet. "We can schedule it now if you like... Next week some time, perhaps?" She watched him in the dim candle light. How different he was from her earlier expectations.

He nodded. "Of course. The same time and day would be acceptable."

"Then I'll see you on .17," she said, giving him a small smile of encouragement. She left quietly, leaving him to his meditations. She had a lot more to think about, and some research to do.

---

"Standard Orbit"
By Lieutenant Taylor Bennett - Security Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer

Location: Bridge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.14 02h15

***

0215 Hours, and all quiet on Gamma, but then, it was always quiet on Gamma Shift.

Sanat sat there monitoring the Sulu's orbital status around JJ324c as they finished the second orbit of his new shift so far. Normally, the half human would be at an auxiliary station on Alpha Shift as a standby to Lt. MacKenzie in case of an emergency, however, due to a scheduling anomaly, tonight, he was on Gamma instead.

A chirp on his panel drew the helmsman's attention to a malfunctioning port thruster, Unit 2-B. It had failed an automated diagnostic check he started when the ensign first took over from Sepek during the shift change. He took it off line and sent a notice to Engineering for further investigation.

The inoperative unit posed no danger to the ship since they were in orbit, so Vijay quickly tapped in an adjustment algorithm to compensate in the slim chance he'd need thrusters to maneuver for some unknown emergency. He yawned as the computer updated the thruster subroutine.

Taylor Bennett seated in the center chair temporarily during 'Commander Sam's brief absence. She thought her heart would leap right out of her chest when the android operations manager asked her to take the bridge. She'd accepted without comment and moved from the tactical station to the center chair, almost afraid to sit.

She'd noted the warning chirp from the flight control station, and wondered what would be causing such an alarm at this time of the morning. She slipped away from the command chair and down to where Ensign Vijay worked.

"Helm status," she said softly, preferring to go to him and talk, rather than announcing something to the entire bridge.

Her voice startled him; she'd walked up on him so quietly. He turned slightly and replied to her question over his shoulder in an equally quiet voice, "Port Thruster Unit 2-B failed a routine diagnostic check. I have taken the thruster off-line and notified Engineering."

When she reached his side, Sanat looked up at her and continued his status report, "I have already compensated for the inoperative unit by altering our thruster subroutine and entering it into the flight control system." The flight controller swiveled back to his station temporarily. "The computer acknowledges my updates and the altered subroutine is ready for use, Sir."

"Good news," she said with a grin. "Keep up the good work." It felt awkward speaking like that, especially since her promotion could still be measured in a fairly realistic number of hours. "You're new on Gamma, aren't you?"

"Thank you, Sir." She was quite an attractive woman once Vijay could see all of her at one time. And she was a half Vulcan such as himself: The light-brown hair being a dead giveaway to any informed observer. He smiled at her query. "Correct, Sir. Ensign Sanat Vijay, pleased to meet you--"

"Taylor," she answered. "Taylor Bennett. I'm not usually in charge here, but Commander Sam had to meet with one of the junior Ops officers. So, I guess I'll be seeing more of you here on Gamma. Welcome."

He shrugged. "I don't know for certain, but thank you. There was a problem with the shift schedule and now I'm on Gamma for a day or so...I think. Then again, I could be here for several months...I'll adjust one way or the other."

"Well, it's not a bad shift to work if you like quiet," Taylor said. "And, if you time your sleeping schedule right, you really don't miss out on any socializing you want to do."

"Wise advice it would seem. Have you been on Gamma long?"

"Pretty much since I got here," Taylor said. "This is my first time actually being 'in charge' though. So far, it's not bad, but I'd prefer to just watch the tactical board. Fortunately, it's a quiet time to get the experience. I couldn't imagine trying to do this during alpha shift."

Vijay gave her a small smile. "I suppose that would make things interesting from a security standpoint." He motioned to his console. "Although, sitting here monitoring the ship's orbital status doesn't make it any more interesting for me on any other shift besides Gamma. There's so little to do."

"If I had your job," Taylor said with a grin, "I think I'd bring a pillow with me to the bridge. So, what do you do here to keep awake?"

He laughed quietly. "I doubt 'Commander Sam would permit that...but I can do a lot of diagnostic checks on the flight control systems...." Sanat suppressed an urge to roll his eyes and pointed to an incomplete subroutine displayed on the panel. "However, I plan to use my time on Gamma to tune the flight control matrix to shorten helm response times."

"That sounds impressive," Taylor said. "You'd have a bigger ship, like this, responding like it were actually a runabout. In most encounters, I can see lots of potential for that. Our speed and maneuverability are one of our biggest assets, since we don't have the weapons capacity of a Galaxy or Sovereign-class."

"Correct. Especially considering our solo status in the Gamma Quadrant...we can use all the help we can get."

Taylor laughed. "Keep talking like that, and they're going to give you another pip too," she said. "So, how tight have you managed to get the maneuvering response times so far?"

Sanat opted not to comment on any possible prospects for promotion...that would come in due time...provided he avoided any temptation to get into trouble along the way. Keeping his small grin in place, the pilot replied, "I've shortened the processing time by 1.75 seconds, but I believe another 2 seconds is possible before an overload condition occurs in the control matrix. To reduce it further would require Engineering's assistance for some...extensive modifications."

The half Vulcan arched an eyebrow. Her comment made him think about the Captain's recent promotion announcements. Pointing to his collar, Vijay asked, "You mentioned a second pip. Did you just receive yours? I haven't had a chance to read the bulletin on the ship's message board to see who was so honored."

"I'm not sure who else was promoted," Taylor said. "I haven't had much time to talk to others. I just know about myself and my roommate. Though, lately I haven't even seen Nat all that much, just Joji."

Vijay blinked. And then blinked again. He asked tentatively, "Lieutenant Nathalie Gui is your roommate?" He could only hope that their oral bloodbaths hadn't become the topic of conversation between Taylor and Nat...otherwise it might be a long night indeed.

"Yes, pretty much from when we both came aboard the ship. You know Nat?"

Before he could explain their tenuous relationship, Lt. Commander Sam stepped back onto the Bridge. The android surveyed everything as if to ascertain whether anything had drastically changed. Both Taylor and Sanat exchanged knowing glances...time to end the pleasantries and get back to business.

He cleared his throat and spoke for Sam's benefit, but directed the statement to Taylor, "Helm status will be unaffected by the thruster change, Sir."

---

"What Lies Ahead Minus What was Left Behind"
By Ensign Sanat Vijay- Flight Controller

Location: The Swamp, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.14 08h25

***

He reached for the cold drink without giving it another thought as an empty glass went into the recycling side for reconstitution later. The transaction was very efficient and very logical. It almost made him retch at the thought of being like his mother, cold, emotionless...logical. But then was he really acting that way?

Sanat frowned at the replicator simply because it was there and his mother was not. He took his synthehol over to where a very old, perhaps even ancient by definition, album sat open on the divan; one page displayed a serene purplish sunset on Ioterthe`, the other, a family tree delineating those that came before him.

The pilot sat down and took a sip of his drink, his third such libation in so many minutes.

Keeping his glass in one hand while sliding a finger under the page, he manipulated the old, torn parchment just enough for it to be properly illuminated in an otherwise dimly lit room. It was a picture of the Bronze Mountains just as Iotherthe`s second sun set below the planet's horizon.

A jagged, inhospitable range named for its extensive deposits of Pyrrhotite, a high-sulfur iron ore mined primarily for its nickel content, Vijay had once traveled to those faraway peaks to observe Kal Rekk. It was a risky foray into an area devoid of sanctuary and water, but the young Vulcan survived it.

Barely.

"So magnificent you are," he said aloud, casting aside the memory of Kal Rekk for a more pleasant one. The sound faintly echoed back to him...there was no one else present to share his sentiment.

Mason hadn't been there when Vijay came home after pulling an unscheduled Gamma Shift watch on the Bridge. It didn't really matter. Sanat could become quite drunk on his own. He'd done it before.

The ensign raised his glass. "Here's to treasures lost." He tipped it and brought it to his lips. The cold synetholic concoction flowed down the curved glass contour towards his awaiting mouth.

It was solace, liquid comfort for the unending pain he'd suffered since losing his home. He drank greedily, his fierce, unforgiving emotions driving an intense desire to drink away the ache...at least for a little while anyway.

He lowered his empty glass and examined it with a morbid curiosity.

"Bigger. It must be bigger next time," Sanat Vijay uttered as he got to his feet. The tall man walked briskly over to the replicator; he promptly deposited the glass for recycling.

Tapping the console's soft-touch membrane, he ordered another drink, "Selection Vijay #1, 700 milliliters, quickly!"

"Your request is not valid. Please make another selection."

"Listen, you stupid box of isolinear circuits...." He punched the matter conversion device with his fist. The dull thud swiftly registered pain into his highly efficient, but sodden brain stem.

"Frak!"

Shaking his hand, Vijay took a deep breath and tried once more, "Antares Fireball, 700 milliliters." The half Vulcan flexed his fingers to ensure nothing was broken as the replicator smoothly hummed as though nothing had happened.

So far, everything appeared to be in order except his ego.

His drink quickly appeared and he wasted no time snatching it away from the machine. " 'Bout damn time...piece of targ dung!"

Vijay immediately took a large swallow. He suppressed a belch and trod back to the couch taking care not to spill anything on the carpet...it having been cleaned not so long ago.

The helmsman sat once again. He looked down at the book for several minutes before saying, "All gone now...no going home." There was no way of knowing how the Dominion forces eliminated what remained of the transplanted population as well as the concerted effort they made to contaminate the planet's fragile biosphere; but rest assured, Ioterthe` was now a dead world.

For at least a thousand years if the savage war-like people held true to their typical metodo di operazione of the last war.

"Goodbye for now...."

He slowly closed the album. Taking a brief moment to savor its hand-stitched cover, Sanat slid it away towards the other end of the couch. It contained only memories now, nothing of relevance to his future, just a keepsake of the recent past.

Reclining, Vijay took a sip and stared at the door. Perhaps even, 'The Portal of Fate', would be an appropriate moniker...for she had come through that door twice now and the result was less than desirable each time.

His synetholically-numbed mind took a second to consider destiny and the galaxy at large. He, she, it, could be a cruel host-hostess-thing if trusted too much without a certain degree of cynicism.

"I am fool," Sanat scoffed. He had trusted it far too much without taking time to consider the improbable number of paths. Some of which may not contain a desirable outcome. The helmsman sighed aloud. If only the universe didn't have such a perverse way of showing one their soul...it might make living an easier burden to bear.

"A drink to fools!" he declared boisterously raising his large glass.

After finishing what was left with another large gulp, he murmured, "A drink to fools...." Vijay arose and mildly stumbled to the replicator again. The ache, the dull lonely ache still remained and he wanted it go away, to go away, to stay away.

Within a minute or two he was back on the divan staring at the door...and sipping yet another Antares Fireball. He mused, Why do you tempt me so?

The half Vulcan speculated out loud, without waiting for an answer, "I wonder if she likes Chinese food?" Kassy loved the ethical cuisine...probably her favorite food of all time. More pain bubbled to the surface when her lovely face shimmered in and out of his mind.

Now it was not the loss of home that drove a cold spike of duranium through his heart...it was the memory of an accident onboard another star ship during the war that focused his attention. Something, if allowed to go back in time, he would rectify. Rectify with his life if that were at all possible.

But it was not.

His free fingers started drumming on the divan. She looked and acted so much like Kassy though. Could they be friends? Lovers? Only time could tell he decided, internally replaying their last encounter once again.

The image of an angry, red-faced Nathalie Gui shouting, "Elf Boy!" came to the forefront of his drunken thoughts. It produced a sly smile on his face, could it be possible to be given a second chance? But her resultant anger just as swiftly nullified his smug expression.

Should you even try given what happened last time? his inebriated brain queried.

Before he had time to answer the question his mind thrust forth, the door opened, bringing bright light and Mason Farrell inside. His roommate was humming an old Terran tune that Vijay was unfamiliar with, but it sounded dark and melancholy.

Perfectly suited to Sanat's mood....

---

"Legacy"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Sanat Vijay; Flight Control Officer

Location: USS Sulu, the Swamp
Stardate: 57908.14 10h00

***

Mason sprawled across his chair, his head laid back and one of his legs hooked over one of the chair's arms. "Okay," he said, thinking hard. "One more time, just so I've got it all: Nat came in, and said what?"

"That she wanted to make amends and get better acquainted, or something close to that." Sanat twirled his drink while staring at the glass. He was almost totally, satisfyingly drunk.

"And then you insulted her?"

He looked up from swirling synthehol and over towards Mason. "Insulted is such a...strong concept. I merely asked how we might do what she suggested." When his roommate frowned at the response, Sanat shrugged somewhat guiltily. "I might have phrased it a little differently than that, but it was the essence of what I asked her."

"Well..." Mason blew out a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. "Hell."

Sanat dropped his head. "I screwed up, didn't I?" His shoulders slumped a little as the half Vulcan lifted the glass and finished the remainder of his drink.

Mason took a deep breath, still staring at the ceiling. "Yeah," he said.

The half Vulcan's eyes grew unfocused as he looked back in Farrell's direction. He blinked several times to clear them; Amir Vijay, his father, was sitting on Mason's chair arm, staring at him and shaking his head. He appeared as though he'd walked straight off the bridge of the USS Kamino...uniform and all.

"I suppose you are disappointed in me?"

"A little, I guess," Mason shrugged. "What happened to helpful and friendly?"

The Captain nodded his head as if to echo Mason's thoughts. Amir's face wrinkled up into a smirk as his son talked. Apparently even mirages had opinions.

"New ship, same problem, huh?" he muttered to himself. Vijay didn't appear to care if Farrell overheard him as he rolled the beverage container between his hands.

"Come again?" Mason asked, pulling his head off the back of the chair and looking at Sanat.

Amir raised both shoulders in a shrug of indifference and crossed his arms.

Sanat stared at his father's image. "It's now a legacy of sorts. Something that never seems to go away." The half Vulcan set his empty glass down.

Mason arched an eyebrow and gave an intrigued smile. "You have a legacy? Of being rude to girls who can kick your butt?"

The elder man shifted as if to get comfortable. His smirk was gone, replaced by an expression, which could be interpreted as either apathetic or sympathetic in Vijay's drunken state. However, Amir remained silent; a trait that seemed to fit his stern persona rather well.

A small snort escaped Sanat's nose. It sounded peculiar considering the topic of their conversation. "Yes, I suppose it's true." Vijay fidgeted with his hands as he talked. "Perhaps having legacy isn't a befitting thing for someone my age...it must be destiny's way of balancing the scales. Righting a wrong...."

"A wrong?" Mason asked.

Sanat got up and started to pace. "She was beautiful you know...tall, reddish brown hair...and a smile that always brightened my day." Sanat looked back in Mason's direction and into the eyes of his father. "I tried to save her...I really did...."

"Save her from what? Is Nat in trouble?" Mason was perplexed.

Amir cocked his head, dipping it and motioning for Sanat to keep talking.

Vijay turned his back on Mason, on his father, as the tall man pivoted on the balls of his feet to reverse course. "Kassy was a fine officer, a strong woman...and...a passionate lover...."

The helmsman stopped after reaching the apex of his march to the other side of their shared quarters. He kept his back to them while putting out an arm, and leaning against the slight contour of the outer hull for support. "She shouldn't have died...the Kodiak...I mean, the ship wasn't hit that severely, minimal damage at best."

Mason silently mouthed a profane word as he realized what Sanat was doing. He'd done it himself a number of times. Sitting up, he leaned forward in the chair and put his elbows on his knees. "It always looks minimal at first. Then what?"

"We were on a damage control team together. During a lull in the fighting, Kassy, Tog and I had to repair a leaking plasma conduit."

"Standard procedure," Mason prompted.

Pulling his hand back and shifting the weight to stand fully, Sanat turned slightly to his right; not enough to face Mason or Amir though. "She was an engineer...Beta Shift Super...promoted to Jaygee a few days before the accident...."

Mason smiled and thought of Nathalie for some reason. "Must have been a go-getter."

"Yes. Kassy was going places in Starfleet. Top student of her academy class...graduating with honors. Cochran Medal for Engineering Excellence in Warp Mechanics. Shift supervisor. The complete package...."

"What happened?"

He suddenly felt cold. Sanat clasped his arms together as if to hug himself. "I screwed up...and I killed her...."

"How?" Mason asked softly. It was a tough question, but Sanat was clearly wanting to talk about it, drunk or not.

Sanat sighed and swiveled his head enough to make eye contact with Farrell, his father. "My own stupidity."

"Come again?"

Amir simply stared back at his son.

"I should've paid closer attention...should've noticed the damage to the surrounding conduits...especially when I bypassed the leaking line...routing plasma into an adjacent one. Stupid mistake. Something a rookie cadet might do...."

Mason realized what would have happened. He asked anyway, "And that caused?"

The Captain stood and acknowledged Ensign Vijay's statement by frowning. His arms were still crossed as he waited for more to be said.

Sanat repositioned his body and slowly trod back towards the divan. He stared down as he walked. "The other line ruptured and...and...." The pilot's face contorted with pain as he struggled to say, "Kassy was sprayed by hot plasma...in the chest...."

Mason sat very still and let him talk it through.

"I pulled her free...free of the plasma and carried her...to the sickbay...but...but they said...." He went quiet.

"They said?" prompted Mason gently.

He reached the couch and tried to sit down, but failed, sliding down onto the floor with a thud. Sanat didn't move after settling onto the decking, "We talked about getting married...after the war...."

"It was too late?"

Vijay managed a nod. "Too much...internal damage, Doc said."

Closing his eyes, Mason hung his head, a vision of another woman with a burn in her chest coming to mind.

"Kassy...she...she passed to the other side in...my arms...."

They sat still for a time, then Mason slid out of his chair and onto the floor next to Sanat. "It still hurts," he said.

The pilot's eyes were filled with anguish. "Yes." He let his head turn towards Farrell. Sanat saw Amir move in their direction.

Captain Amir Vijay uncrossed his arms, and stooped down to look his son in the eyes. His face still held a small trace of reproach on it, but it softened slightly as if to confirm that Sanat was not totally to blame for what happened.

After a few seconds, he said with some trepidation, "I can't seem to get past...her death...." Vijay turned away to stare at their front door. He began to utter something, but after drinking solidly for over an hour, the words came out garbled and totally unrecognizable.

"Come again?" Mason asked.

Sanat's head snapped around quickly. "I said...Nat reminds me of her...."

Mason thought carefully for a few moments before venturing, "So you don't want her close?"

Amir's face showed consternation at Sanat's newest revelation.

He looked away from Mason and Amir. For some reason, his right trouser leg became fascinating and the half Vulcan officer starting to pick something imaginary off of his knee. Mumbling, Sanat replied, "I guess."

"You probably ought to tell Nathalie that," Mason said. "If I know Nat, she's probably off somewhere right now wondering what she did wrong. Talk to her; explain that this is a no-fault problem, and see where it goes from there. Want me to talk to her first?"

The pilot nodded to affirm the first part of Mason's advice, but then brought up his head when he heard Farrell mention discussing the matter with Nat.

"No...I...Yes...I don't know...maybe...." Sanat shrugged in confusion while staring at their entrance door. This whole situation seemed barely fathomable in his current state of inebriation.

Mason regarded Sanat for a moment, and saw the spittle on the man's lip threaten to turn into a full line of drool. "You're drunk, Sanat. Come on." Mason got to his feet and put out a hand to his friend. "Come on. You need some sleep before you decide anything."

He accepted the proffered hand without comment. As Mason helped pull him up onto wobbly legs, Vijay looked at his roommate, no, friend, and noticed Amir slowly shaking his head.

The Captain shook his head in disappointment. During the whole conversation, he'd never uttered a word, either good or bad. A behavior that was typical of the stoic man. He turned and walked away from his drunken son to simply vanish through the bulkhead without a trace.

As his father disappeared, Sanat glanced back to Mason. The half human, half Vulcan's eyes said what his heart felt, but the drunken lips were now incapable of saying.... "Thanks."

---

"Love Nest"
By: Ensign Vincent Chan
Crewman Emma Summer

Location: USS Sulu Holodeck
Stardate: 57908.14, 14h30

***

Vincent took in the smooth, cool, clear air of the mountains. The sun reflected off the snowcap of a distant peak. The ground underneath was damp, but not boggy, and his mount easily cut across the green plains. Vincent was astride a chestnut brumby, seventeen hands tall, with a white blaze upon his snout, from which he was named Blaze. The old horse was exactly like one Vincent had ridden during his youth in Australia, and the rolling hills made him reminisce about his home. He had spent hours constructing this program, sacrificing many others, such his go-karting and soccer games, to get it on. But to him it was worth it, and he marvelled at its beauty.

He had never shared the program with anyone before, but he was expecting Emma to drop by a bit later. They had met a few times since their first date at the Crew Lounge, and Vincent felt a strong rapport and bond forming between them. This was something he wanted to share with Emma, to let her see what he was about. They were going to have a little picnic in the fields, in the afternoon sun. This happy thought was interrupted when the electronic sound of the chime told him that Emma had arrived.

She strode into the holodeck wearing knee high riding boots, crème jodpurs and red riding jacket. Her hands held a riding helmet and a large leather saddle bag. The bag had been arranged by Sikara, and he had promised that it held a few culinary surprises. Emma looked at the scenery and waved at Vincent who sat astride a large horse. Her own was a black coated mare held by its tether to a small tree. She had ridden many times, and was quite good at it. As a young girl she had been raised on an extensive property in California and had owned several horses. Her knowledge as Emma Summers came from hours of riding in a holodeck. It only took a few moments to tie the saddle bags and check the stirrups and girth. She leapt into the saddle easily and walked the horse over to Vincent.

"Hey, Vee," she smiled brightly as she strapped on her helmet. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. "Very nice," she complimented his program. As she drew her horse alongside his she leaned over and kissed him. "Very nice...." she laughed and held his chin, allowing him to kiss her again.

"Hmm... Thanks, honey," Vincent said. He could tell by the way she mounted her horse she had done this before. "There's something I want to show you, just over those hills over there," Vincent said, pointing towards Mount Victoria in the south. Just over it Vincent had programmed in a little waterfall and stream, as a romantic backdrop for their date. He had spent hours on it last night and couldn't wait to show Emma. He gave Blaze's mane a soft tug, and steered the horse southward.

"I'll tell you what..." Vincent began, keeping his eye on Emma as he steadied his hands on the reins. He gave a soft flick and Blaze went into a full sprint. "Last one there is a Romulan Spy!" he shouted over his shoulder as the horse picked up speed.

The swift rush of the wind blowing through his hair, and the familiar sound of the horse's hooves thundering as the landscape whizzed past, and Vincent was back in his element. He could sense rather than see that Emma had given chase. Vincent smiled and pushed his horse a little a faster. He was enjoying this. All that time cooped up in a Science lab could severely drain your energy, but a quick rush like this and Vincent was revitalised. He glanced back at Emma. "How are you doing?"

Her laughter over the galloping horse was almost drowned out by the wind and the thunder of hooves. She kicked at the horse and spurred it to greater speed as she drew alongside him, her rear perched above the rising saddle and her heels dug in. She leaned over the neck of the horse and let it reach its full stride. The black mare began to over-take the brumby as they shot out of the trees and into a clear meadow.

They rode hard. Emma was exhilarated by the speed and swiftness of the horse. It responded instantly to knee control and the slight tug on the reins. She came to a rough track and the hooves kicked up dirt. The boundary fence of a property loomed closer and she laughed as she turned the horse toward it. The leap was smooth and the recovery brought a scream of joy from her throat as she cleared it easily. Trees and a slope ahead brought her closer to the horse's neck as it bolted under some low hanging branches.

Vincent's brumby took the fence cleanly and where Emma's horse shied away from the denser parts of the woods, it didn't. Like a gazelle it leaped through the gaps and vaulted fallen branches, swiftly taking back the lead. Emma squealed that it was unfair as he bolted ahead of her.

Vincent pulled on the reins as they reached a small creek, meandering its way through mountains and hills. He waited until Emma had reached him. "I knew you were a Romulan," he joked. He had had the head start and would have been surprised if he had lost their little race. He drew up alongside her, and gave her cheek a little kiss. "I still love you though, don't worry."

She gave him a very serious look. "Don't ever tell me that unless you mean it," she said seriously.

Vincent returned her solemn gaze. "How could I ever lie to you?" he asked. "I know I mean it, you know I mean it. Hell, even Blaze here, knows I mean it." He gave his steed a little pat. "Don't you believe me?"

She shot him a squint-eyed look. "I'm serious, Vincent - please don't say that to me unless you really mean it - and don't tell me you love me after one night of hot sex, two dates and a lunch!" She gave him a smile as her horse shied away; she reined it quickly, showing unconscious control of the animal as she stared at him. "I like you - don't spoil it." Her eyes told him not to argue.

He decided to let the matter drop. He began to point out their picnic spot to her. "You see the river? We're going to follow it up to this lovely little waterfall. There should be a nice rock ledge that we can set up on." Vincent paused as the sun came out from under a cloud. "We'll have lunch there. Is that alright?"

"Cool," she grinned. "This is great." She winked at him. "How long have we got? Maybe we can have a swim."

"We've got plenty of time," Vincent said. He continued hesitantly. "But I haven't got my board shorts with me...and it looks a bit cold..."

"I haven't got mine either...and I can think of a couple of ways to get warm." She shot him a very sultry look, grinned and slammed her heels into the flanks of the horse. It responded by rearing up and she stood with it as it bolted. Laughing wildly she rode hard toward where Vincent had pointed. "Come on - last one in's a Spoonhead!"

Not wanting to lose face he went in pursuit of her. He wasn't about to be beaten in his own holo-program.

Vincent reached the spot just after Emma did, and while she caught her breath, Vincent directed her gaze to the surrounding scenery as he climbed down from his mount. "Well? What do you think? Romantic enough?"

She didn't even bother to look at the trees, she just slid off the horse, staring him in the eyes the whole while. "Yeah," she said as she slid her arms around his neck. "It looks just romantic as hell." She kissed him hard. The look in her eyes was almost wild. Her helmet hit the floor as she pulled her hair loose. As their lips met again, she tugged at his tunic, trying to unzip it as she unbuttoned her own jacket. It turned feverish, Emma disrobing as she tried to keep her lips locked with his. It turned into a giggling frenzy of undressing until finally she dragged him down to the mattress of clothing and soft loam. "Tell me you love me again," she murmured into his ear as he nuzzled her neck, she sounded desperate.

Vincent stroked her hair gently, brushing it, and muttered soothing reassurances in her ear. "Of course I love you, Emma." Seeing she still doubted him, he went about showing her his love.

***

With an effort Vincent pried himself from Emma's embrace, and went over to his backpack. He pulled out a bottle of champagne. It was the normal replicated stuff and the taste was mediocre, but it seemed appropriate for the occasion. He uncorked the bottle, and after rummaging through Emma's pack for some glasses, filled each glass half-full, and handed one to Emma.

She lay on the pile of clothing, feeling warm and sapped of strength. He was certainly enthusiastic in his assurances, she thought. He loved her - so he said. He was probably the type to fall madly in love given incentive. She smiled. His psyche profile had been accurate enough, but would he do what she wanted him to do when the time was right? As he looked lovingly into her grey eyes she stroked his cheek, giving him her most sultry smile. "I think I love you too, Vincent," she whispered.

---

"Sweet Dreams, Good Memories"
Ensign Vincent Chan

Location: VT's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.14 16h00

***

Vincent woke up suddenly. He could feel his sheets drenched with his own cold sweat. He could feel that cold sweat dripping down his brow. He paused briefly to wipe it away. During all this time Vincent had felt the sweetest feeling of pleasure, that in his sleep-numbed state of mind he could not quite work out why. He thought back to what had happened before he woke up. He had been dreaming he remembered that much at least. He tried to think back to what the dream was, but it was trickling away from him like water cupped in one's hands. He remembered distinctly who it was about though.

His old friend Becky Cohen. And he also knew why. Yesterday had been her birthday.

Vincent and Becky went all the way back to his Academy days. They had been in the same class together. At first Vincent had not thought much of her. She was loud, bright and a big socialite. It was widely known that her parents were from a wealthy family with many connections in Starfleet. She was an extrovert. Vincent watched her with contempt and distaste. Until he went out with one of her friends.

To cut a long story short, Vincent and Becky had become a lot more amiable as a result. That coupled with Becky's outstanding performance in classes raised Vincent's opinion of her. She may be an extrovert, but she was a smart and brilliant one. Vincent himself being an extrovert soon found Becky's company much more exciting than her friend's. They went out. They worked together, played together and slept together. They couldn't get enough of each other. By the end of his time at the Academy they were good friends, and Vincent was thoroughly in love with her.

But that was not the reason he had the dream. Two years ago on her birthday, Vincent had proposed marriage to her.

The very next day however, they had received their orders and assignments. She went to the Enterprise, and he would spend a year at Battelle Institute, before being assigned to a ship. They knew then that their relationship was over. Their deep emotional ties had to be cut. And Vincent had had trouble getting over her. Everything seemed perfect. They had everything going for them. Everything was on their side. Everything that is, except fate.

Vincent had then come aboard the Sulu and met Emma. She seemed the perfect replacement for Becky. And he had truly loved Emma. He had thought he had gotten over Becky. Until last night. As soon as his shift had finished he had ran straight to the bar and drunk himself senseless. He blamed Lieutenant Tagliesh for cutting him out of the action on the planet, and sticking him on the bridge. But he knew it was Becky. He had confronted his demons last night and failed miserably.

Now Vincent thought about it again as he began to get dressed. Was he completely over Becky? He wasn't last night, but now in the morning, his thoughts were clearer. He put everything into perspective. He hadn't seen Becky in two years. He knew that even if they did meet again, they would only be friends and that their relationship could never again be at that level. A positive decision reached, Vincent awarded himself with a mug of coffee. The caffeine hit him instantly, as he turned his thoughts to Emma.

Emma was great. He could really sense a deep rapport developing between them. But there were deep shadows in those dark gray eyes, unfathomable. There were also times, when she, believing him not to be watching, looked at him with a dark, cool, calculating glance, as if she hated him and he was no more to her than a tool. He could not figure this out and he knew it would be a long time before they could completely open up to each other, free and without reservation.

Vincent would wait until then. He had gotten over Becky. He no longer loved her like he once did. Instead he was starting to love Emma, but that was far from the emotion and the attachment he had felt towards Becky. But still it was a step forward. He glanced into the mirror to check his uniform. Satisfied he left for the bridge.

---

"Atonal Harmony"
by Lieutenant JG Taylor Bennett - Security Officer
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Bennett and Gui's Quarters
Stardate: 57908.14, 16h20

***

The door chime to Taylor Bennett's quarters sounded. No one had called ahead.

It was another thirty seconds before the door whooshed open. Taylor stood on the other side of the door, wet hair hanging in her eyes. Her uniform tunic and pants appeared to have been pulled on quickly. When she saw Cristobel on the other side, she grinned. "Hey there," she said. "I hadn't expected any visitors this morning, unless you're here to see Nat, of course. Please, come in." She gestured him inside, hoping that all of Joji's toys had been put away.

"Well, that depends. I'm looking for a certain recent promotee to Lieutenant Junior Grade," Cristobel enthused, his voice getting higher at the mention of Taylor's new rank. He bounced into her quarters carrying a tray with a pair of tall glasses and a brushed-chrome teapot.

"Well," Taylor said with a laugh as she followed him back into the room, "that could be either of us. I think, as we came through the wormhole, some celestial bodies aligned, and both Nat and I got promotions. For myself, I think the Prophets or Wormhole Aliens--or whatever they are living in the wormhole--managed to lift the Curse of Kim with which I had been afflicted." She made a dramatic sigh, and then pointed to the couch near the porthole looking out into the vastness of space. "I will use a combination of logic and my own emotionalism to determine that you are here to see...me." She grinned and flopped down on one end of the couch. "Nat and I have been planning to celebrate, but with our schedules we just haven't had time. When we do, you're definitely invited though."

"Thank you, kindly," Cristobel said. "Maybe I should pray to the wormhole aliens every night we're in the Gamma Quadrant, and they'll construct a miracle for me on our way back through the wormhole."

After he'd set the tray down, and was about to sit, Taylor's hand shot out and snatched up the drumsticks he'd been about to sit on. She gave him a sheepish grin. "Sorry," she said as she set them aside on the table. "I'm not sure who's worse about leaving stuff around, me or Joji. I try though."

"I didn't even know you played drums. I'll have to send a thank-you message to the Starfleet Corps of Engineers for improving bulkhead soundproofing," Cristobel said, as he snickered and gestured in the general direction of his own quarters across the corridor. "What sort of drums do you play? For how long?"

Taylor laughed and shook her head. "I don't play them in here, silly," she said. "Usually it's just a holodeck program Kit set up for music lessons. And, I've been playing for roughly eight days now. According to Kit, I'm doing really well. It's really embarrassing, but I keep finding myself practicing on my station on the bridge, just tapping beats and rhythms. I've even practiced with the band a couple times!"

Having to put effort into continuing smiling, Cristobel asked, "The 'band'?" even though the answer, considering Kit's involvement, was obvious.

"The Suluists," Taylor offered. There was a moment of silence followed by a moment of revelation. She sighed. "You used to be a member...but you're not any longer. The time I saw them on Risa, you weren't there. I hope I haven't...I don't want to cause problems... Do you mind me asking what happened?"

"I...suffered from a minor...neuro-chemical imbalance on Risa. I was in no condition to perform with the Suluists. I wrote some songs while I was away, but," Cristobel shrugged, and continued his awkward explanation, "Kit and Amy never invited me - never told me when rehearsals... And now Amy only talks to me as if I were an emergency medical hologram. I guess I missed the recent resurgence of performances, in my avoidance of places of public fun and humiliation."

Taylor chewed her lip as she listened to Cristobel explain the situation with the Suluists. She was quiet for a moment, then she sighed. "Not a pretty situation. We haven't really done many performances yet, mostly just practice. I was there at the party when you and Amy fought, Cristobel. Have the two of you resolved that? I won't claim to understand Kit or Amy's motivations, but it is possible that after that they felt you wouldn't wish to associate with them. Or they're still upset and didn't wish to associate with you." She gazed off toward the door, putting her thoughts in order.

"I met Kit before the party," Taylor continued. "And we started talking. At the party on Risa, they seemed like they were having so much fun, and I've always wanted to do something crazy like play an instrument and be in a band. So, when I was talking to him, I sort of...I guess I asked him if I could be in the band. I'd never even held a pair of drumsticks before, but he said yes. The next day, he loaded up a training program, and I started playing the drums." She looked back at him. "To tell you the truth, we don't really sound all that great. We have a drummer who's played the drums for a week, a guitarist who...who doesn't really know how to play, a bass player who's amazing, but there's only so much a bass can do with a drummer and guitarist who have no idea what they're doing. Kelzira and Tchalla are singing back-up vocals and they both have beautiful voices, but..." She laughed. "We suck. We're getting better, but we...we suck. And, if you wanted to be in the band again, I'm sure we'd be happy to have you and you should talk to Kit, and I'm sure he'll be alright with it." She took a deep breath since most of what she'd just said seemed to come blurting out in a single breath. "Do you want to be in the band again, Cristobel?"

"I -- I don't think I know," Cristobel answered with entire honesty. He smirked slightly at the irrationality of his behaviour. "Been so hurt at the exclusion, I haven't been figuring if I'll actually have the time for it, or if I even have a desire to perform. I mean, I'm one of the few original Suluists left...and yet I've never actually performed as one. Never." The humour dropped from his tone. "Besides, even if Kit could talk Amy into getting over her interpretation of my words and her skewed concept of loyalty, I don't know if I can forgive her. I don't know if I'm capable of forgiving her. She hit me. I don't particularly understand what that means to humans, or to Vulcans for that matter, but that is not something easily forgotten in the culture I was raised."

"I was raised in a mixture of human and Vulcan cultures, and while hitting another isn't common or generally acceptable, it is a reaction more common to humans than Vulcans. The Vulcan reign on their emotions keeps them from lashing out when hurt, though it is common among humanity. There have been times when I've been upset enough with someone that the thought of striking them has entered my mind, but I've never done it. There are those who will lash out with words, and those with violence, and I do not know what pushes a person to strike out at another." She shrugged. "It sounds like the two of you have a lot between you, and working closely in an artistically charged environment may be bad. Still, I'd love to have you in the band, but it isn't my place. As I hear it, the chief science officer struck the captain, and now they're dating very seriously."

"As I hear it, that relationship has led to some whisperings that the Science Chief should have her job title changed to Captain's Woman," Cris quipped facetiously. Recalling the forgotten Doji iced tea, Cristobel poured the emerald liquid into both glasses, as he tentatively asked, "Could you do me a favour? I don't want you to get into trouble with Kit or Amy or the counselling staff, but could you try to find out if Amy has started an honest and open dialogue with her counsellor? If Amy didn't even think of telling her counsellor that she'd had thoughts of suicide, I can't imagine she's doing herself any good. She must go into those sessions, talk a little bit about how she's feeling at that particular moment, completely forget about the emotional turmoil she's been through and caused since the last session, and neatly sum up her self-diagnosed 'problems' in a text-book fashion." Since Taylor had been in the mess hall on skirt day, Cris felt behooved to explain what might have seemed like lashing out on his part. "I never thought she was truly suicidal or bipolar, but considering her reactions, she doesn't seem to have the emotional-intelligence to deal with whatever is wrong on her own, or even to look for help on her own. And now she won't let me help her."

"I haven't really talked to her much," Taylor said as she sipped at the tea, "but I'll see what I can find out from her. The two of you seemed very upset that night, and she seemed almost at her wit's end. With the rumors that have been circulating around the ship... I guess I can see where she might be out of balance right now, especially if she cares for Kit as much as she appears to. It's like the wound that is picked at, and never allowed to heal. Based on that, I believe her lashing out makes more sense. Think of a how a cornered animal may react; at some level, I believe, under the conditions, Amy may be feeling as if she's being backed into a corner. I'll try to talk to her the next time I see her."

"Thank you; it's muchly appreciated. I do believe I can understand Amy's motivations, but when it comes to violence..." -- Cris shook his head -- "lesser intent makes it no easier to forgive." He took a long silent drink of his iced tea.

"I understand," Taylor answered as she took a sip of her own tea. "I guess the question becomes at what point do you forgive someone for something like that. And what must transpire before forgiveness can happen?" She sighed and set her tea back on the table. She gave Cris a smile. "It's never easy to forgive someone for something they have done to you, but is the violence really all that worse than other things that could have happened? Her violence was an expression of anger and fear and probably a host of other emotions as well. Many people, humans especially, do react in rather unpredictable and emotional ways when they are hurt...especially when they are hurt by someone they care about." She sighed again, and picked up her tea. "I don't want to tell either of you who's right or wrong, but from what you've said, and what I witnessed, I believe the two of you make better friends than enemies."

Cristobel's eyes didn't stray from the half-empty glass of iced tea in his hand. As frantic as his mind considered it, Cris couldn't think of anything that would prompt forgiveness; inexplicably, the only thing that came to mind were how many times Amy had fallen apart, asked Cris for advice, told him how brilliant the advice was (coming from a, sigh, "almost-guy"), and then completely ignored the advice until she received it from dozens of other people. He wondered if she'd just been appeasing him by listening, or if she was just forgetful, and what could keep them from falling into the same pointless pattern if they were to reunite. And he supposed that was the answer, by the time he refilled his glass.

"I would have to know, with all certainty, that she'd never again... Absolute certainty," Cris reaffirmed. "I just -- perhaps it is a Betazoid thing -- I can't think of anything she could have done to me worse than striking me." Realising that it was true, as he said it, Cris desperately asked, "How am I supposed to trust her, if she can treat me with such contempt?"

"It's a difficult situation," Taylor said. "How can you ever really trust anyone else? Really trust them. When people are upset, they do things they don't realize, things they would never consider in their normal life. With species that are less evolved emotionally, this is even more so. If they are unable to govern their passions, they are likely to lash out when upset or jump into bed with a stranger when aroused or talk about giving up when in despair. When in full capacity of their own wits and emotions, perhaps they would be less likely to do any of those things, but reason is one of the first things to go when overwhelming emotions kick in. For those species that haven't the mental discipline of the Vulcans or Betazoids or any of the other species who focus so much into their minds, more care is required, like children. Sometimes, they just don't know any other way to act or react." Taylor shook her head and laughed. "I can't believe I'd heard that speech so much that I can practically recite it verbatim. In the state she was in, she would have lashed out at anyone there, even Kit."

Cristobel laughed in kind, but the sound held little mirth. "Difficult situation indeed." Grunting out a frustrated sigh, he said, "Mo dhia, listen to me? I haven't seen you in weeks, and you got a promotion, and now I've killed all desire to celebrate."

Taylor smiled. "And, I'm not complaining," she said. "Especially if something I've said is helpful."

"Hopefully." Cris smiled back. "How do you do it? One would think Security officers would have more danger of beating each other up after hours than a couple of nurses."

Taylor grinned. "I train pretty much every day, and have regular drills with the others in the department. We channel all of our aggression into beating each other up in simulations, so we don't have to do it off-duty. Myself, it's also a combination of meditation and mental conditioning. I've realized that I work with mostly men, and most men have a Peacock Complex, or at least a Gorilla Complex. You let them splay their feathers or pound their chest, and they're fine. If they're still trouble after that, I've got several black belts and a beautiful training program to make them humble. I try to go easy on them, because for some reason getting beat up by a girl is bad for their reputation." She gave him a big smile. "When it comes down to it, I try not to take things too seriously."

As Taylor went on to detail the various changes T'Kal had brought to Security and Cris shared with her the events of Medical's camping trip, Cristobel vowed not to take anything too seriously - for at least the next hour. Not taking anything too seriously had long been his own modus operandi until late, and Cristobel felt quite certain that it was past time for it to return.

---

"Polar Oppositions"
By: Lieutenant (JG) Nathalie Gui - Security Officer
and Ensign Sanat Vijay - Flight Control Officer

Location: Nathalie Gui & Taylor Bennett's Quarters, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.14 17h46

***

The room was virtually shrouded in darkness save for the flickering candlelight, the smell of burning incense hung in the air. In the middle of the room Nathalie sat deep into meditation.

Her reddish-brown hair hung from her face in long wavy strands; on her body she wore a loose long sleeved white shirt, on her legs short black shorts. Her feet were bare, the black ink tattoo of the shooting star on her ankle easily visible.

Peace. Utter peace and harmony.

At first she paid no heed to the door chime, yet after a second ring it seemed quite obvious she was no longer to be one with peace and harmony...

"Computer, identify the officer outside my quarters."

Ensign Sanat Vijay is currently outside Lieutenant Gui's quarters.

Huffing, Nathalie rose to her feet and paused briefly to hold her hand to her head. The least she could do was talk to the man, granted things had not gone well recently but perhaps this could be the chance to start things off on the right foot...right?

Walking over to the entrance of her quarters she punched the button on the control console and the door whisked open. Calmly she looked at Sanat and simply said, "Yes?"

"I came to...apologize, I realize we may have gotten off to a...bad start."

Damn. That was hard to say. Sanat swallowed his pride as Mason had suggested, however, he wasn't quite sure why this mattered so much to him. Was it her resemblance to Kassy, or possibly the guilt of Kassy's death at his hand that made this difficult? Something in his gut said, "You know why...." And Vijay couldn't argue with his primate instincts, they'd saved his life too many times to ignore offhand.

Sighing Gui stepped aside and gestured with her hand. "Come on in. Computer raise illumination by 20%." A chirp acknowledged her request and the lighting was restored to the darkened room. "Would you like anything from the Replicator?" she asked, looking to Sanat.

He nodded and stepped into the room slowly. Sanat scanned for Joji as he cleared the doorjamb and answered her question with, "Water will suffice. Thank you."

Ordering the requested water from the Replicator, Nathalie also ordered herself one iced Green Tea. Returning to where Sanat stood Nathalie handed him his glass of water and then gestured to the couch. "Have a seat." Sitting down in a chair opposite the couch Gui studied Sanat as though trying to discern whether he was really here to apologize or attempt to have a go for a second round of their first verbal boxing match.

Vijay sat where Gui had indicated and took a long drink from his glass. For some peculiar reason his throat was dry...really dry. The tall man hadn't realized he was thirsty until sitting down. He glanced at Nat watching him with an appraising eye and then decided to try and tender an apology.

"I'm sorry for...." How does one apologize for being an ass anyway? the helmsman quickly asked himself. His mind went blank for second before Sanat managed, "For behaving the way I did when you came to our quarters." His stomach began to churn a little as he awaited her reply.

"Are you really? Because I don't think you are, unless you suggest us resorting to singing sad songs 'round a campfire to one another maybe while we're at it we can dance on the hot coals and see who can catch fire first," Nathalie remarked coldly as she took a sip of her cold drink attempting to calm her nerves. She wasn't sure why but there was something about this man that made her blood boil.

I suppose I 'deserved' that, he mused.

Nat had almost by verbatim, repeated his earlier sarcastic remarks. Vijay tried to inject a little humor by replying, "I suppose we could do that, but my singing might wake the dead...." the pilot finished with a small, sincere, smile.

"You know I suppose you're right, and since you always seem to be right, your singing would wake the dead. Perhaps instead of singing the two of us should resort to using Klingon Pain Sticks, we obviously can't agree with each other on the verbal level, so we should obviously try doing so on the physical!" she fired back.

He could feel the heat rising up his neck as her words hit home. Fighting off an urge to get up and give a resounding retort worthy of a true Klingon, Vijay said with some pessimism, "I suppose that may be the only way to come to terms with each other now...."

The half Vulcan man wasn't sure why he'd agreed to come here and subject himself to this verbal torture, (although it was partially his fault to start with); maybe it was an attempt at reconciling the pain of Kassy's death. Perhaps, even a second chance at something higher than purely physical sex, however, given his and Nat's smoldering exchange, chances for that kind of relationship were dying fast....

Somewhere, deep in the back of Nathalie's conscience she could have sworn there was a very, very tiny voice screaming out to her this was not the way to resolve things. But the other half of her conscience was egging her on, as though saying Sanat was everything to blame for what happened and he deserved nothing, but being told this verbally.

"You know what, let's not wait until we get ahold of the Pain Sticks, why not beat some sense into each other now! Things seem to have been progressing grandly on the verbal level!" Nat stood and planted both her hands on the couch; one on the armrest the other on the cushions she leaned forward slightly to look Sanat in the eyes. "You know what, forget the whole damned thing, your race seems to be a real expert on mind control techniques, perhaps we resort to brainwashing. Obliviously we can't agree with one another perhaps we should force each other to become friends as per custom for your race! But wait, I forget, you're not a Romulan, no, you're a smartass, know-it-all Vulcan!"

Sanat stood up slowly. The emotive dam holding back a vicious diatribe developed several large cracks and was now threatening to burst forth. His face held a combination of anger and pain, but mostly anger; inside the man's stomach knotted itself into a Tholian lattice from the stress he was experiencing from this exchange.

He pointedly replied, "You know, Lieutenant Gui...your assertion that Vulcans are intellectual snobs is...beginning to wear thin. For a security officer to speak this way...well, I find this most amusing...."

Vijay paused and then said, "How do you propose I brainwash a person who cannot control a simple canine? I mean, since you are such a mental giant in comparison to say...this plant here, how do we form such a union given my supposed vast superiority?"

It wasn't much of an insult as insults go, but the point was pretty clear.

Nathalie stood as she turned away from Sanat, fuming. Suppressing her rage, she balled her hand into a fist tightly, nails digging into her skin. Releasing her fist she turned to face Sanat. "Oh yeah? Well if you don't mind my saying, I'd think you fly boys would have a little more in the brains department, it seems I was off by a long shot!" she stated sarcastically.

"Oh and this coming from a paragon of mental fortitude...a security officer no less.... Where will the universe take us next? Pakleds performing brain surgery?" His face shifted a little. "Better yet, you could have a stimulating conversation with a pot.... It's just about your speed."

"AHA! You deny being better than me but you just admitted it! And I'm sorry if I can't provide stimulating enough conversation with you, would you prefer that we continue this conversation in your native tongue? If you like while I'm at it I think I'll throw in a few insults from other reaches of the galaxy. I can think of 17 different words for an idiot but I think throwing in the other 22 for asshole would be overdoing it don't you?" Nat stated innocently, her features displayed the sly look of a predator eyeing its prey.

Well she does have a point... he thought quickly.

But, he had come to apologize and here they were verbally sparring again. It starkly reminded him of another woman he once knew...and loved. Vijay's stomach tied itself into yet another knot at the prospect of Nat and himself becoming involved with one another. Fire and Ice, or, Oil and Water might be on better terms than they were currently.

Doing his utmost to suppress an obviously angry rebuff as well as cover for his queasy stomach, the pilot replied with as much calm as he could muster, "My native tongue is Hindu, I wasn't aware you were well versed in it Orospu."

He drug out the last syllable intentionally to add extra emphasis to the insult. The curse word wasn't spoken in Hindu, however, it mattered little now given the volatility of this steadily degenerating conversation.

Nathalie's mind fought to discover what it was that Sanat had just purposely called her. The language obviously was without a doubt totally foreign to her but judging from the way Vijay had so venomously spoke it, she was certain she had just been insulted.

She studied the man in front of her, attempting to read what was going through his mind. She struck a deep chord here with him that much was obvious, what she couldn't understand was how someone of his youth, rather close to her own age, could act this way. His eyes made her think that he'd be more of a gentle person, someone kind but...

Angrily shoving the thought aside that even such a thing could come from him Nat balled her fist and before she knew it she struck him in the face. Hard. She squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled back trying to believe if she had done what she thought she had just done. Never, she only struck someone if in self-defense or...hand still shaking she opened her eyes and held back the tears and kept her gaze calm as possible.

"Get out."

Stunned by the sudden blow, Sanat numbly placed a finger to his bleeding lip...things weren't supposed to happen this way. What started as a simple apology to an apology swiftly turned into a verbose bloodbath, and just as quickly into physical violence.

His mind dumbly asked, What the Hell just happened?

Vijay couldn't think of a single thing to say in return...either to Nathalie or his befuddled brain...it was as if the universe was having a particularly sadistic time with him and her right about now...only this time, she was turning the knife inside his gut. Not Kassy.

The tall man just nodded and walked to the door. As it opened, he turned slightly and then sadly shook his head while stepping outside into the corridor. There just wasn't anything he could do to heal the growing rift between them it seemed, and his only solace for tonight was another series of Fireballs.

It was going to be another long night....

Nathalie watched Sanat leave and only until he finally ventured through the portal leading outside her Quarters did she fall back onto her couch breathing out a heavy sigh as she did. She couldn't understand what was with her and Sanat that made her just went to bite his head off or vice versa...surely everyone had some sense in them...right?

Shifting positions Nat rolled onto her stomach and rested her head on her arms. Just what was it with the two of them?

---

"Grows On You Like Tasmos"
by Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer
and Ensign Cristobel Sefton - Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, Arboretum
Stardate: 57908.14, 17h55

***

Cristobel Sefton lay sprawled on the perfectly safe-for-humanoid-contact grass, while his Class-A uniform jacket hung from a tree branch to avoid unsightly grass stains. A transcript of verbal study notes that Cris had dictated scrolled on the PADD forgotten on his indigo tunic-clad chest. His attention was attracted to the Terra-styled holograms hiding the walls of the ex-cargo bay.

Shirik made her way to the new arboretum. She hadn't yet seen the cargo bay turned garden area, and had asked Sefton when he might be there alone for her to speak to him. As she entered the bay, she looked around curiously, seeing many species of plant she had never seen before. She wandered inside, meandering along the pathway until she came upon Cris laying in the grass. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Hello...."

"Hello," Cristobel said formally, quickly sitting up and drawing his legs in. Shirik had been vague about her reasons for wanting to meet him, and with his promise to leave her mental privacy intact, she could have been planning to slice open his skull, for all Cris knew.

She nodded a greeting. "I trust I'm not intruding. I came to speak to you about the arboretum." She looked around once more at the surrounding vegetation. "I have a plant I would like to add."

"You do know that my duty station is Sickbay, yes?" Cris asked with some bewilderment, considering he had first met Lektar as her nurse. "I'd be in the broil, if I were a botanist who vaccinated the crew for fun."

"Would you have preferred I come to speak with you about this topic while you're on duty?" she asked. She folded her hands behind her back. "I also know you had a hand in helping to set up this arboretum. If you prefer I speak to someone else about it...."

"No, I can definitely help you, and now is better than when I'm on duty. I mean, I help with the arboretum on a purely volunteer basis," Cristobel said, grinning more broadly than the situation demanded. Cris realized that Corran must have recorded him as a full-time volunteer in the construction of the arboretum, which would provide a nice sparkle to Cris' Starfleet record, even though Cristobel could only remember providing perhaps one hour of actual labor to the arboretum. The rest of his 'labor' in the arboretum had been much more recent - after the arboretum's completion - and of a more recreational nature, during the arboretum's occasional off-hours.

"What sort of plant is it?" Sefton asked, after a noticeable reverie.

"It's a type of moss," she said. "It grows in caves on my world, and has specific temperature, humidity, and light frequency requirements. I currently have a sample I've been growing in a terrarium in my quarters."

"Do you have a profile of the... moss that I can read over?" There was only half-a-moment of disdainful pause in Cristobel's question. He didn't doubt the moss would have a uniquely pleasing aesthetic, but he couldn't fathom how Drokari royalty had come to appreciate moss.

"I'll be certain to send you one," she said.

"So...do your people live in caves?" Cristobel blurted.

She eyed him. "Do people who like apples live in trees?" she asked, crossing her arms. "No, my people do not live in caves. If you must know, the moss is called Tasmos, or Blackmoss, and it is used for similar purposes as Earth's tobacco or coffee bean plant."

"I knew there had to be a particular reason you liked it," Cristobel said in a lordly tone. He then asked, "Would you like the moss to be grown in isolation, or would it thrive as a member of the larger eco-system?"

Whereas she had kept an open mind about Cris Sefton after their last conversation, she now decided she didn't like him very much. He reminded her of Mason Farrell. She decided to ignore his attitude and focus on business. "The moss should grow fine in the open eco-system so long as its requirements are met inside the cave."

"Right." Cris nodded, and then non-sequitured, "Can I ask you a theoretical question?"

She felt a nightmare coming on, but acquiesced. "Very well.... What?"

"What is the value of mental privacy?" Cristobel asked entirely genuinely, without a hint of accusation. "I mean, it was explained to me once that privacy has value because it is valued by those who keep it, and I can respect that on most days, but it sounds like circular logic to me. Since we talked before, I've been curious to know what you see it bringing other than miscommunication and hurt feelings? I want to be able to see it too -- really -- I just...don't."

"I'm not sure I can explain it to you so you would understand," she said. "You come from a culture that has no concept of it, how can I explain it to you with mere words?" She pondered for a moment with a small frown. Betazoids never had secrets, they simply couldn't. So how could she explain to him why someone would want to have them? "I can only say that although it has no value to you, it is very valuable to others. Take latinum, for example. It's a well-known currency among the Federation, but you could have a mountain of it and go to my homeworld, and be unable to buy anything, simply because latinum has no value to us. A fact Ferengi find rather frustrating."

"I do understand that; don't try to explain it in a way you think I'll understand," Cris said a little impatiently. Approaching affability, he suggested, "Personalize it. What does mental privacy provide for you?"

She sighed and thought for a moment. "Privacy. Protection. Safety." She moved to seat herself cross-legged in the grass. "If I dislike someone, or think what they're wearing looks stupid, I don't have to let them know that. I can keep those thoughts to myself, and not offend that person, thus avoiding conflict and hurt feelings. It's as important to me as physical privacy. When you're naked in the shower, would you feel comfortable knowing someone could see you? I wouldn't. To non-telepaths, our mind is one of our only sanctuaries, a place we can feel safe and untouchable. Without that sanctuary, what do we have left? We are naked before friends and enemies alike. That is the value of it to us. To know that there is one place that is just our own, that no one else can touch, that we can retreat to when we feel threatened, or humiliated, or embarrassed. Where we can feel safe." She wasn't sure he could understand that either, but that was the only way she knew to express it.

"Hunh. I guess you're right," Cris winced. "You can't just explain it to me. I can understand an occasional need for that level of security, but for the most part... The only way I'd be able to truly comprehend that would be after a much longer conversation about your entire defensive outlook on the universe..." Cristobel shrugged, and quirked half a smile. "And Betazoids understand the need to hide away one's body about as much as we understand the need to hide away one's thoughts."

She smiled faintly. "Indeed, that occurred to me after I said it," she said. "Actually, my people are more open physically than mentally. Although another thing you need to consider in my case is that on my world, people who are telepaths frequently use that power purely for personal gain. They wield it like a weapon against non-telepaths, reading their thoughts, influencing their minds...." she shivered.

Cristobel could only frown. Drokari telepaths held very little in common with Betazoids, but that fact wouldn't give the actions of the Drokari psionics any less power or terror. Without anything to say, Cris' eyes found the holographic sky again, but the silence reminded him that he knew very little about Shirik. And so there was plenty to say. "What do you do on the Sulu?" Cristobel asked, his gaze eventually meandering back to Shirik.

She banished the images of Drokari telepaths from her thoughts to focus once more on the present. "I'm in Operations. Officially, resource allocation. I work in the computer core, and maintain the functions of the main computer." None of it sounded very exciting to her as she said it.

Hearing the lack of enthusiasm, as well, Cristobel had to ask, "What do you wish you were doing?"

"I think I'd rather be in engineering or computer sciences, but... This isn't a bad assignment. It's more interesting than my last one. I was in ops there too, but not in the core, so I wasn't working as much with computers. Mostly shuffling papers, handing out rooms. The core is nice and quiet."

"What sort of programs do you write?" Cris asked. "I heard Flummux was the only brill programmer on board a while back, and that it became painfully apparent when the EMH went wonky, but I think that was before you joined the crew."

"Any kind, really," she said. "Replicator and holoprogramming are my specialty, but any computerized system on board I can repair or program." She raised an eyebrow. "There's something wrong with the EMH?"

"No, it doesn't look like me anymore. The EMH was reverted to a standard Mark II while the Sulu was undergoing repairs at DS9," Cristobel replied.

"It looked like you?" she blinked. She decided not to ask for details. "Well, if it's fixed..." she shrugged.

Cristobel had to shrug in return. "It happened while I was away from the ship. But, y'know, there is another holoprogram modification I could really use your help on."

"Oh?" she raised a curious eyebrow. "What's that?"

"A surprise for someone. It shouldn't be complicated," Cristobel assured her. "There aren't any characters or even any interactivity."

"I'm not worried about complexity," she said. "What are the parameters of it, then?"

"...Still working that out," Cris admitted. "I should have them to you by the time you get me your moss' profile."

She nodded. "Fair enough. I'll get them to you as soon as I can. Is there a timeframe on how soon you need your modification done?"

Shrugging, Cristobel replied with a smile, "Nope. It's not an assignment; it's just a favor. Not even an urgent one, at that."

"All right, then," she said, relaxing a bit. She looked around their surroundings. "I've not been in the arboretum before. It's impressive. Do you come here often?"

"I've started to," Cristobel nodded, wearing a wistful smile. "My imzadi designed and maintains it."

"Imzadi... Your...mate?" she asked, guessing at the word's meaning. "It is peaceful here."

Cris nodded again, this time at Shirik's guess, and said, "I think that was one of Corran's key intentions. This crew could certainly use some serenity - myself included."

"Indeed. This crew is unique among those I've been part of," she mused. "Now that I've seen this place, I'm sure I'll visit it more often. Especially once there's Tasmos growing here."

"As I understand it, the faux-cave doesn't get much foot traffic," Cris said encouragingly. "The only people you'll have to fight off for a view of the Tasmos are the occasional couples looking for some privacy; feel free to glare them away and out of the arboretum."

"There's already a cave in place?" she said with interest. "Where?" She quirked an eyebrow at him with a small smile. "Somehow I didn't think you'd want me scaring off the potential customers."

Cristobel pointed towards a back corner where the cave façade was in place. It was little more than a rocky arch behind the pond, but Cris was sure it could simulate the environment of a real cave. "Pfft. You're basically a contributor to the arboretum now; have fun however you like," Sefton enthused.

She got to her feet to go and examine the cave. It was small, but it would do to house her Tasmos. She wondered why he would think her idea of fun was to scare people with her glare. She turned back to him. "Do you find me...scary?" she asked.

"I don't," Cristobel responded genuinely, rising to his feet as well. "Intense, maybe."

"Intense..." she mused. "That doesn't sound bad. I like intense." She studied him for a moment in silence. "I don't get my amusement by frightening people, or trying to," she said. "Or were you teasing?"

"Teasing..." Cris affirmed with a grinning nod. The grin slipped from his face. "Mostly. I...don't know what to make of you half the time."

"What is it about me you find confusing?" she asked. "I believe I've been quite plain in voicing my opinions, and answering any questions you've asked of me."

Shrugging, Cris struggled to find the words to explain, "I suppose I simply haven't yet put together a comprehensive view of those opinions in my head. I still don't know what to expect, and whenever I think I might, I'm wrong."

"It's likely just a matter of time, to get to know me better," she said. "If that's what you want...."

"I think that's something I'd want, yeah," Cristobel nodded with half a smile.

"Well then...perhaps you would like to assist me when I transplant the Tasmos here?"

"Shiny," Cris remarked in the affirmative. "Count on it. ...Does it have an odor?" Cris tentatively appended to his agreement.

She took that to mean yes. "No, the moss itself has at most a very faint earthy odor. It doesn't smell until it's dried and ground into its powder form and made into Klaas. Then, it's unpleasant to most non-Drokari."

"Then, yeah, count me in on the former non-smelly fun, if not the latter considerably-more-smelly fun," Cris declared.

"Very well. When I'm ready to transplant I'll let you know and you can meet me here. But I must be going now, I have an appointment late this evening, and need to get some sleep before then."

"Have a foul-odor-free pleasant evening," Cristobel enthused.

Shirik gave him an odd look. "I'm...sure I shall..." she said. His sense of humor was strange. "You too." She headed for the exit.

Not even sure if Shirik had a sense of humor, Cristobel just watched her go, and then laid back into the grass to stare up at the simplistically-generated holographic sky.

---

"A Chat Among Friends"
By: Ensign Dwayne Sanchez
Ensign Amy Reese

Location: Auditorium, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.14, 16h30

***

Dwayne sat in the auditorium, his own computer fabricated keyboard in front of him. He'd tuned the thing in for a piano sound, and had the rhythm sounds coming with just a touch of a control. He thought a moment and then he just decided to play, after bringing the tempo down a little. It was too up-beat for what he wanted to play right now.

And what he wanted to play had nothing to do with being in love, had nothing to do with loving anyone, but had everything to do with being depressed. He thought he'd had himself something when he moved out of the quarters he'd shared with Steele, and moved in with Amy. Now, Amy had a life of her own that had nothing to do with him. Kelli too had a life without him and that hurt since he'd thought they, the three of them, were friends. They were the ones who got him to let loose, and when he did, it seemed that they had all but abandoned him to his own devices. And left to his own devices, he'd just revert to his old self. The self that Amy told him to leave behind.

And now, that old self was popping back into his life and he was hating it. So, he played...

"That's a nice tune." The voice sounded small and timid compared to the profound melody flowing from the instrument. When the music stopped and Dwayne turned, Amy Reese was smiling nervously. "Hi, Dwayne... It's been a long time."

"Yes, it has." He laid his hands in his lap.

They watched each other in uncomfortable silence, Amy shifting from one foot to the other, and glancing from time to time around the room. Her gaze rested on him again, and she smiled awkwardly. "You've...been well?"

How can I be doing well when the one person I thought liked me has been ignoring me? he thought to himself. "About as well as I can since my social life went all to hell," was his reply.

Amy winced at the statement obviously directed at her, and took a sympathetic step closer. "I-I know we haven't talked much, Dwayne...but things have been so hectic! I'm not avoiding you...really!"

Dwayne's hands went back to the keyboard and began to play a tuneless song. "So, where have you been keeping yourself lately?" He ignored her response intentionally. He was sure they would be getting back to that eventually.

"With Kit," she admitted. "And trying to sort through things." She leaned her hip against the stage as she watched Dwayne. "And you haven't exactly made an effort to contact me either, Dwayne, so don't blame me."

Dwayne's hands slammed on the keyboard; the sound that emitted from the several keys being struck at the same time wasn't a very melodious sound. "I don't butt in where I'm not wanted, and obviously I'm not wanted by you or with you.

"Kelli's even been avoiding me too. I don't see either of you, who are supposed to be my friends, and, I don't even see you come back to, what I thought, was our quarters. I've long since given up the thought that anything would ever happen between Kelli and I, and that anything more would happen between you or I, or for that matter, that anything would happen between myself or any other female on this ship. But I would have thought that my 'friends' would have at least stopped by my quarters or invited me out or something to keep in contact with me. But I guess that is too much to ask. Even for a small text message left on my computer in my quarters."

Dwayne's rampage took him from one end of the stage to the other, and his gaze never rested on Amy.

"Have you even been paying attention?" she called up to him. "Dwayne...I moved out days ago! I'm living with Kit now. Maybe you're too busy wallowing in self-pity to notice anything! Besides...you could've stopped by to see us. I figured that you...well...hated me, Dwayne."

Obviously he hadn't been, otherwise he would have realized that a long time ago. Another thing, he didn't feel right going into what used to be her room, so he hadn't even noticed her stuff was gone. "I take pride in not disturbing people when they seem to have other things on their minds." Which was why he hadn't been to see Kelli either.

"It's not disturbing if you want to spend time with your friends," Amy told him gently. "Dwayne...you're just so distant all the time and somber...It's not exactly fun hanging around someone who cries at the drop of a hat, you know."

"That's not fair, I haven't cried since before the last time we talked. You and Kelli...you two took that part of me and turned it around. I loved our time together. But I'd feel like a third wheel if I was to go see you. I wouldn't feel comfortable around Kit." Silently he said, Not after what happened between you and me.

"Kit doesn't mind about that anymore," Amy assured him. "We're past it. I mean...if you wanted to join the band again, you'd see - he really doesn't hate you."

"I mind. I knew better than to do it in the first place, but something inside me said to take advantage of the moment...so I did. And then felt guilty afterwards. Guilty for doing it in the first place, guilty because I liked it and wanted more, guilty because you were already taken and I couldn't have more, not from you.

"As for the band, I'd like to, but I'm sure you realize that I'm more of a solo player. Well, when it comes to music anyway." Dwayne looked out over the auditorium, the expression in his eyes was that of a lost little boy. "I don't know what to do anymore..."

Amy sighed and finally mounted the stage to approach Dwayne. She stopped behind him, watching his hunched shoulders and otherwise somber demeanour. Gently, she laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. "What you can do," she whispered, "is come and have some drinks with all of us. Be our friend again, Dwayne. No one deserves to be alone."

"And what, be a 'third' wheel in anything you and Kit would like to do, or would rather be doing than spending time with not only a one time lover but a former roommate?" Dwayne sighed, "Amy, I'd like nothing more than to be a friend. I feel lonely, and on a ship of more than maybe 100 people, that's rather sad. I need to feel like I'm not crowding anyone, and I would feel like that if I was spending time with you, Kit and the rest. I don't want to feel that way."

"I don't know what to tell you, Dwayne," she told him. "I've just said you're welcome. You won't know until you try, right?"

A short harsh sound escaped Dwayne's lips. "Yeah, that sounds familiar. 'You won't know till you try.' That's something you said when it came to making love with me. And what did I do? I try it only after you've gotten a boyfriend." He was fighting the warmth that came to his eyes. He wasn't going to let her see him cry again. No, she seemed, at least to him, to find it a weakness. His grandmother said women love sensitive men, well, not this one. She preferred someone who couldn't even decide what colour his hair should be to a man who had one hair color and was very sensitive. Dwayne sat back at his keyboard and began playing again, another very depressing sounding tune. "I don't know what to say to you anymore, Amy."

She sighed heavily. "Look, all that's passed, Dwayne. Just...just try and start fresh with us. Can't you at least try?"

"Start fresh with you? I'm not sure if I can. Now I'm in those quarters and I miss seeing you dancing. I miss seeing you do your morning routine. All I have is based on memory, and somehow the memory pales alongside the reality." Dwayne swallowed the tears he felt forming. He was still refusing to cry.

"Wow," Amy whispered. "I had no idea I had such an impact on you, Dwayne. I just...I figured you were glad to see me go after everything."

He kept his eyes lowered. "No. I miss you. If you weren't anything else, you are my friend and I don't like not having you around."

Amy smiled softly and slid down next to Dwayne on the piano bench. "Oh, Dwayne," she murmured, then wrapped both arms around his waist in an awkward hug. "I'm sorry. I want you as a friend...we just need to find time to hang out." She giggled. "Like we're doing now!"

Dwayne grinned. "Yeah, I guess we're hanging out." He put his arm around her shoulders. "How about we schedule things together, for our down time?"

"Sure," she replied brightly. "And maybe you can think about joining the band again." Her smile was pleading and hopeful. "That means we'd be able to hang out a lot more."

"Well, I don't know. I like creating my own melodies...and I don't think Kit likes them."

Amy sighed. "Well, I like your melodies, so if you ever change your mind..." Smiling tenderly, she kissed Dwayne's cheek. "I should be free in a couple nights if you want to go to the lounge for a drink or something."

"You liking them, and Kit liking them, are two different things." Dwayne said, then to her offer, "Sure. Whenever you want." He then leaned in and placed a kiss to her cheek as well.

"Great!" She giggled and rose from the bench. "I'm glad we talked, Dwayne. You're a good friend when you're not pouting."

"So am I. And, Amy, don't mess up what you have with Kit, okay? A guy who would forgive you of that one indiscretion is worth keeping around."

She sighed. "I know...and I'm trying." Winking, she said, "I'll be a good girl." Then she grinned and sauntered off. "Take it away, Dwayne!" she called back, wanting a little tune to see her off.

And he did, choosing a jazzy tune to send her off, since Jazz was her favorite, at least that was what he remembered. A wink and a smile to her and he was feeling a lot better...

---

"Green Thumbs & Blue Knuckles"
By: Lieutenant (JG) Nathalie Gui - Communications Officer
Corran Quezith - Civilian Medical Trainee

Location: USS Sulu, Arboretum
Stardate: 57908.14 18h31

***

Nathalie stepped into the Arboretum, Joji held in her arms. Since her pet's little sneaking incident Nat figured if she was going to accompany her to the Holodeck or to the ship's Arboretum, that she would use this method of transportation so as to not risk having a repeat of what happened to Sanat Vijay aka "Great Guru of the Sticky Dirt".

Kneeling, Nathalie let Joji leap out of her arms and onto the ground. The small pup was clearly excited and intrigued by her new surroundings, immediately her nose went to the ground, sniffing the grass and its accompanying flora. Standing, Gui began to walk through the Arboretum, taking in the various sights at the different varieties of plant life and flora.

The last time she was in here, her time spent was not altogether pleasant. She sighed as she looked down, remembering when she had confessed to Mason of her feelings for him; the memory itself still pained her when she thought of it, the memory in itself even more so seemed to remind her of her own past mistakes in the area concerning relationships. Shrugging the thought aside Nathalie attempted to set aside her worries and let her mind drift.

In a nearby bush, or rather behind a set of bushes, Corran worked happily upon the plantlife he'd seeded. Everything was growing exceptionally well. It was nice to be able to do this, both for himself and for the ship, and it gave him something to do until he completed his medical training. He still needed to talk to Damhnait about that, since he wasn't even on the official roster yet even as a medical trainee.

As he thought about that, a small furry animal raced up behind Corran and chomped into his right leg's pant leg. He turned around quickly to look at it, but didn't move. Instead he chuckled, and sent soothing thoughts to the animal. He knew animals in general seemed to sense empaths much easier than non-telepaths or empaths, and supposed that the dog might have been slightly bewildered about Corran's new aura. All races had their own aura.

Hey, it's okay, not here to do anyone harm. He pathed the message to the small creature, knowing full well it probably wouldn't be intelligible by the same means. It still served to calm her, and Corran lifted her up to take her out of the bushes. He didn't want the dog to be hurt by stray branches.

That's when he spotted the arboretum's latest visitor.

He pulled down his face mask and approached her, setting the dog down and 'telling' it that it should return to what was its probably owner.

"Good evening."

Nathalie kneeled, letting Joji approach her. Scratching behind her ears Nathalie smirked as she spoke to Joji. "Don't tell me you're getting into trouble already, girl?" Looking up at Corran, Nathalie smiled. "Hi, I'm sorry if Joji was disturbing you, she has a tendency to wander where-ever her nose leads her...the results often being troublesome or not."

He waved a hand dismissively. "It's quite alright..."

Standing, she offered her hand to Corran. "I'm Nathalie, you've already met Joji. What's your name?"

He stretched his hand out to hers and shook her hand firmly, smiling at her, pleased to see a visitor that was okay about socializing for once. "I'm Corran, local green thumb freak." A grin spread across his lips.

Laughing, Nathalie withdrew her hand. "So you're the famed green thumb freak whose aboretum everyone has been raving about. I can see why, you've done a very nice job," she stated, smiling.

Corran smirked curiously before turning around to look at the arboretum. In his critical eyes, there was still much to be done before it would really reach the level of beauty where it'd be something special...but as he glanced around, it did resemble most modelled parks with its perfectly ordered and trimmed vegetation.

"Well, thank you... I actually hadn't heard anything about 'raves'... You'd think I'd know, being a telepath." He rolled his eyes at himself before he unzipped the top of his suit to let air in. Then he gestured towards the Arboretum's lab. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure, do you have any Iced Tea?" she asked, following Corran to the Arboretum's lab.

He pointed over to a small table, one of three he was planning to set up in the Arboretum for the mini-cafe with its replicator that would sit there. The table itself was fairly simple. Square in design, and made out of wood from Bajor with a design engraved upon it. Corran had had the foresight to protect the top with a layer of lacquer already, and he'd installed a force field projected umbrella in the center that darkened the area just above the table depending on the sunlight being provided to the arboretum.

Finally, there were some simple wood and metal chairs surrounding the table. The design engraved on the backrest was actually an old royal seal from the days that Achicar Prime had once had royal families.

Corran walked over to the replicator and asked for two iced teas.

Nathalie took a seat at the table as Corran got the drinks. She looked down at the table, admiring the workmanship. It was nice, simple and elegant but definitely comfortable. She looked back up as Corran approached with the drinks. "Thanks, you've been with the crew for awhile now, since Risa I mean..."

He smirked uneasily as he too sat down. His eyes had settled upon his tea thoughtfully, until finally he looked back up at her. His eyes shifted to green gradually. "Actually, I was away from the ship for quite some time. I was around for the beginning of shore leave, and then left for home... and came back not long ago, while the ship was docked at Deep Space Nine. And you?" He asked the question soon after explaining his situation, unsure that Nathalie would truly want to know the intricacies of his leave.

Gui attempted to study Corran's expressions as discreetly as her skills as a linguist allowed. She noted the sudden change of colour in his eyes as she took a sip of her iced tea. Lowering her glass she replied in response to his question. "Oh? To be honest I came onboard the ship around the time shoreleave started for the crew, I was at Deep Space Nine for sometime before getting a request to be reassigned." Smiling, she chuckled to herself before lifting the glass to her lips again. "So here I am, part of me can't help but find it humorous that all my years serving in the fleet and I never served on a ship."

That caught him by surprise. "I wouldn't think it's normal for someone not to ever serve on a starship when they're part of the fleet. How'd you manage that?"

Nathalie laughed. "Actually I think a term of better words would be I served less time on a starship than I expected; three years tops. The seven other years I served at San Drego Colony and Deep Space Nine. So in a way I guess I consider myself more so a astronomer than the spacefaring explorer. Well until now at least."

"Any preference?" he asked humorously.

"I think I like choice B over choice A if that answers your question," she replied, grinning.

"I'd say 'welcome to outer space', but you've probably seen more than I have in this short time by comparison." He chuckled warmly, shaking his head at hearing her preference. They were on one of Starfleet's more modern ships and that of course meant it was amongst the fastest.

They both went silent for a brief moment that didn't last quite so long, "So besides a cute dog, and your career thus far, what else is there to know about you?" This would drag on an eternity by means of verbal communications, but as he'd been doing for a while now, he continued trying. He tried to adapt to such a method.

"I'm into extreme sports and racing Flight Bikes. I've been racing since I was 15 years old back home on Terra. It's a lot of fun once you get the hang of it, but it can also be quite dangerous whether you're racing on land or water." Nathalie sighed before taking another swig of her drink, the last bit she knew was certainly true since she could speak from experience; one of which almost killed her.

"Think there's any reason that might've led you to such a risqué sport?" Corran's brow rose curiously.

"The real reason I got into the sport itself was because I enjoyed the feeling of freedom, I could be like a bird and fly...well to some extent," she remarked with a chuckle.

"Hrrrm, maybe you should've used an anti-grav harness instead." He joked at her, but then went quiet, wondering if he could or should try to venture into the world of telepathy with her. The thought of a bird's flight had triggered it... since he'd been able to feel what a few birds had by sensing their simple minds, when they flew.

"You know, I'm a telepath..." he started uneasily. There was a small smile on his face, but a tense one.

Nat's brow furrowed in confusion. "You're obviously not Vulcan are you a Betazoid then?"

"Neither... Achicarian," he answered almost too quietly.

"The Achicar, I know of them but very little. What kind of telepathy do your people use? Touch telepathy, empathic telepathy?" she asked now interested in learning more of Corran and his race's skills.

"It's a little of everything, in different ranges, for each person. Touch telepathy is normal..." He lifted one hand and showed her his palm. The membranes that were previously invisible began glowing with bioelectric energy. "And other abilities go up from there with experience. Something like 95% of the populace is empathic, while of that group an 89% is telepathic straight out. The numbers start going down little by little... the maximum expression of it is in a reserved group of enlightened people that use telekinetic abilities as well. It's not very unusual to find them hovering in the air when they're meditating...I've seen them destroy starships by causing imbalances in their reactors before... but that's something none of us want to see ever again..." Corran felt the hairs on his neck rise up at recalling a behemoth of a cruiser that was leading one of the fronts against Achicar Prime that had erupted explosively at first, and then exploded into a massive wave of energy that had pulverized the surrounding ships. The screams of terror, panic, and in very few cases pain, had caused many of the psychological traumas he'd treated after the battle.

"Wow, I had no idea that the Achicar have such powerful skills, it sounds quite well...unbelievable that people can possess such power and still control it...do you possess skills in the area of telekinesis or just telepathy?" she asked gently.

He shook his head wildly, his eyes reacting by bursting through a range of colors. "Goodness no, just telepathy. My parents didn't want me to become part of the elite groups, they wanted me to have a normal life... but even telepathy comes at a cost..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so assuming if I did. If I offended you I'm sorry," Nathalie stated, looking down towards the ground before looking back up at Corran. If anything the least she had planned on doing was trying to upset Corran in this conversation.

Corran blinked curiously, then shook his head again. "No, not upset, it's just I could see myself nailed to a cross by now if I'd had those abilities..."

Nathalie lowered her head and said nothing as she contemplated Corran's words. Looking back up she attempted to speak but no words came to her. She wondered if what Corran had told her really had truth behind it. Either way it scared her.

He reached across the table and touched her hand gently, a sense of warmth and comfort spreading from the telepathic membranes at his fingertips. "Don't worry about it too much."

She looked up as she felt a warm, comforting sensation on her hand and found Corran's hand covering her own. "I'll try not to, Corran." After a brief moment or two of silence Nat then asked, "Seeing as you have me as your guest would you be willing to give me a little tour around here?"

Corran glanced out to the arboretum for a moment, wondering what exactly he could show her that would truly catch her interest. There was a full tour, but it was decidedly boring for most outside of the occasional curiosities that had been planted...

"Everything, or the special little secrets?" he finally asked mysteriously.

"Surprise me," Nathalie replied, smiling.

"Alright." He offered his arm as he stood up close to her, and then cocked his head towards the gardens of the arboretum. It was getting darker, so he would have to make it quick and show her the plants that took on a night life.

---

"Dinner with Mother-In-Law And the Boss"
by Lt. Cmdr. Damhnait Sefton - Chief Medical Officer
and Corran Quezith - Civilian Medical Trainee

Location: USS Sulu, Chief Medical Officer's Quarters
Stardate: 57908.14, 19h00

***

"Enter," Damhnait responded to the doorchime, as she finished programming the entire meal into the replicator, to avoid having to give individual commands later. She was dressed in a high-collared crimson blouse, similarly coloured slacks, and a pale blue wrap skirt over the snug slacks.

Corran came in with a degree of trepidation. Although he got along well with Damhnait, or rather: Doctor Sefton, she still made him nervous. It was a rather bewildering experience considering how calm he normally was in similar circumstances with others, but he figured it had a lot to do with his future depending on her decisions...

He came in carrying a bottle of an alcoholic beverage (though not quite) that he'd managed to program into the replicator. It was a little something from back home that tasted somewhat like a Dubbonet from Earth, but smoother, tastier, and with a different reaction: enlightening the senses, rather than screwing with body chemistry in all the wrong ways.

"Hi..." He offered the bottle to Damhnait as he stepped towards her slowly.

"Hello," Damhnait responded brightly. She took the bottle from Corran with a light, "thank you", and directed him towards one of the non-Starfleet high-backed chairs at the dining table set for two. "How is the arboretum faring?"

"Pretty well, I even got the cafe set up, now I'm just hoping I can get more work done on the environmentals..." He watched Damnhait curiously after sitting down, not quite sure of what to make of her, certainly unsure of whether or not she would be bothered if he opened his mind to hers telepathically.

Setting the bottle down on the table, Damhnait teased, "Perhaps you should open this up immediately. You never seem this tense when you are an appendage of Cristobel." She activated the replicator, and once she removed a vegetable and rice side dish, the main course was automatically replicated. It was a dish similar to cannelloni, except the servings of spiced meat were wrapped in purple and gold leafy vegetables, instead of pasta. As Corran poured the drink, and Damhnait carried the tray to the table, she asked him, "Would it make you most comfortable to get the Sickbay business out of the way first?"

Obviously, there were subtle differences in racial traits when it came to full blown Betazoids, thought Corran.

"Hard not to be tense when my future as a physician in the Federation pends on your decision. I'm sorry." He apologized for being so stiff and tried to relax as the food was set down, but it wasn't an easy thing to do.

"I guess I'd like to know, at least, whether or not I will be a physician or not. The details can come later on, after dinner..."

"Please don't look to me as if I am an armoured gatekeeper; your own skills will be the deciding factor," Damhnait genially said, sympathetic to his discomfort. "There will be a series of tests, a short observational period as a medical technician, an evaluation period as an intern, and, if you are qualified by the end, you will be certified to serve as a physician in the Federation."

He simply sat there, staring at her, dumbfounded. She made it sound both simple and complicated at the same time, just enough balance between both for him to wonder if he should just be a botanist...but that was when he broke out into a heartful chuckle.

"Heh heh heh heh heh heh...sorry, I guess...hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo..." Corran's eyes flickered joyfully as they switched between tones, and the membranes on his forehead also glowed. It was a classic sign of releasing tension by means of humor...often refereed to as moments of simplicity.

Damhnait's facial features remained the roughly same, except her eyes widened considerably, and she blinked heavily.

"I'm just a little stressed about the amount of material there is in Federation medicine, it's amazing." He took a few deep breaths, stopping himself from continuing with his laughs.

"I suppose I should be the one asking you: Will you be a physician in the Federation? Can you?" Damhnait asked, still in a comforting tone, but with some edge around the seams.

He looked up at her with a degree of determination that wasn't necessarily guided towards the specific goal of becoming a Federation doctor, but it served the purpose just fine. "I can be, I'm qualified, even if I'm not used to many things around here. Cris keeps saying I'm doing fine and moving fast, but I didn't think I'd run into as many setbacks as I have."

"What did you expect?" Damhnait asked pointedly. "You are already entirely bypassing any formalised studying of Federation medicine."

"Being honest, telepathic interfaces." It was a simple enough answer, and the annoyed look on Corran's face revealed that his discontent extended into the depths of what he was used to, but this was the new world. Until the universal translator that the Daystrom Institute was working on with his people were in working order, there was little to no hope of forging a bridge.

"The equipment's different, a lot of the rules are even more different. And there's several differences to keep in mind. I understand fully why programs such as the EMH were developed..."

"I'm afraid I'm not in control of any of those obstacles..." Damhnait remarked with an unapologetic shrug. "I suppose your easiest route would have been to get all of your training over with in a single stint at Starfleet Medical, instead of undertaking it part-time, while you serve in Sickbay, in the Arboretum, and as a café proprietor."

He smirked at her quaintly. "The cafe doesn't take my time away. You'd be surprised at the limited number of patrons I've had so far..." He sighed lightly, and glanced up at the ceiling while leaning back into his chair.

"I might have liked the Academy, but I'm not so sure my ego could have taken such a blow."

"In that case, you will simply have to accept your situation as it is," Damhnait advised in good-humour, raising a glass to Corran in an approximation of a toast.

Corran raised his glass in return. "Well, on the other hand, the nurses are pretty hot." He winked at Damnhait and pathed the thought that it wasn't limited to just the nurses.

"How often do you think you would like to see the 'hot nurses' in Sickbay?" Damhnait asked with only mild amusement, and moved on to stick to the objective.

He looked at her wearily in response to that. "I'm not sure, actually. With all that infighting I've been hearing about, they sound a little bit scary..." It was still partially humorous, but also a genuine concern. He had to work with these people.

"You can always change your schedule after your first impressions of working in Sickbay," Damhnait said, needling him to lose the indecisiveness.

"Err, I'll try to run on a normal shift for now." He chuckled.

"I'll put you on alpha, to start," Damhnait offered. "So long as you pass an initial competency exam tomorrow."

Corran looked up at Damhnait sweetly, wondering if there were any way to get out of doing the test for it. It didn't hurt to try, did it?

"Do you have more pressing matters to attend to tomorrow?" Sefton asked him sceptically.

"No...the arboretum's on an automatic cycle. I just readjusted it this morning, so it should be fine." Again, that brought him back to environmentals...but it could wait, if she was planning on testing him.

"Perfection. I will schedule the exam for 1400 hours tomorrow afternoon," Damhnait decided. Grinning at Corran, she removed the translucent lid from the main serving platter and placed it aside. "You truly have nothing to worry about," she asserted, but then amended, "...At this stage. Your existing medical training will be more than enough to serve you through this examination. My only suggestion would be for you to ensure that you can operate a Starfleet Medical tricorder as if it were an extension of your own hand."

"Just as long as they don't change the model from here to tomorrow, I think I've got that down..." He chuckled, although both of them knew Starfleet had a nauseating tendency these days to upgrade equipment in the blink of an eye.

He began unwrapping his food, and decided he should get to know her better. He hadn't had this opportunity before. "So you finally came to a starship..."

With a forkful of rice held up near her mouth and held steadily in place, Damhnait's only movement was narrowing her eyes on Corran. "...I've lived most of my life on starships."

"But you were on Earth last I saw you?" he asked.

"Visiting," Damhnait clarified, somewhat disoriented by Corran's own confusion. She chewed and swallowed her rice, before continuing, "...for Cristobel's graduation. I was serving on the Oberon at the time..."

After a polite "ah" and nod from Corran, they both set into eating the main course. Silently. Damhnait was comfortable with the silence, but she began to fear that Corran might end up saying or asking something else to turn the meal's mild discomfort into painful awkwardness. She decided it was safest to discuss what they had in common.

"Has Cristobel ever told you about his first pets: twin bogha-frois fish called Adam and Adora?" Damhnait asked Corran, wearing a smile shaped like laughter. Corran simply shook his head in the negative. And so Damhnait told him about the fish, and about Cris playing a rock in a school play, and about the first of Cris' boyfriends she'd ever met. Damhnait would have preferred to get to know Corran as a person and a doctor without the crutch of Cristobel to keep them on their feet, but she was sure she would ascertain Corran's mettle in time.

---

"First Taste"
By: Lieutenant Commander Benedict T'Kal - Chief of Security
Ensign Shirik Lektar - Operations Officer

Location: Crew Lounge, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57908.14, 21h15

***

Benedict T'Kal stepped into the Crew Lounge and looked around. There were a few members of the crew sitting around the tables, some at the bar. The atmosphere was quiet. It was fairly late on Beta watch and most Alpha shift had eaten, Gamma shift hadn't gotten up yet, or were eating in the mess hall. Benedict liked it at this time of the evening while he was working Alpha. He stepped across the lounge with his guitar slung over his back, and dressed in casuals; jeans, boots and a dark tee-shirt with "Punk Brats" Astro Tour scrawled across the back. His raven hair was loose and he flicked it away from his eyes as he nodded at Stencil, the Bolian Bartender.

"Hey there, Stencil." He pointed at the small stage. "Mind if I play tonight?" T'Kal smiled.

"Absolutely, sir, please...before the good doctor Potts makes a re-appearance." The Bolian waved extravagantly. "I'll get your usual, Mister T'Kal."

"A beer would be nice." Benedict slapped the bar. "Ale...cold." Arthas had introduced him to the drink and the replicator did a good job of it.

"Coming right up, sir," he nodded as he stepped away to the replicator. A moment later a frothy glass of amber liquid was slid across the bar. The glass was frosty.

Benedict picked it up, looked at it appreciatively and took a swallow. He nodded in satisfaction. "That's good, Stencil...really good." He nodded his thanks and went over to the stage.

A minute later and Benedict was perched on a high stool, guitar resting on his knee. He started to warm up with a light tune from Bajor. A melody that started softly and increased in tempo and volume. The music wafted across the lounge and a few of the crew moved closer, some ignored it, and others just listened from the bar.

Benedict T'Kal had spent most of his early childhood and young adulthood studying music. He'd earned a degree on Terra Australis by the age of sixteen and he played the twelve stringed guitar as if it was an extension of his mind. When he started to sing his voice was a gentle accompaniment. He had a rich tone, well suited to ballads and love songs.

As he finished the first song he received a smattering of applause and he grinned. He paused for a moment; he hadn't had a particular set in mind, but the words and music came back to him again. The old song. He smiled a little sadly and started to play. The clear notes rippling from his fingers as he built the music. He looked up at the faces watching him, and his gaze fell upon violet eyes.

Shirik had come to the lounge for a little quiet time. She'd grown bored in her room, and was curious to see what new rumors she might pick up from the crew by just sitting and listening. So she'd found an out of the way spot in a quiet corner, and nursed a cup of coffee as she went over notes on her PADD, letting her ears work.

It was the music that first drew her attention. She'd not been present for any of the other times anyone used the stage, and hadn't expected it. She looked up from her PADD and there he was. She couldn't help but smile. She set her PADD aside and took a final sip of her coffee, then turned her attention to watching him, and listening to him play. When he finally noticed her, she acknowledged him with a small nod and a small smile to go with it, then just continued to watch.

The lyrics came gently to his lips. "Stairway to Heaven." A long time ago he'd sung it to a pair of dark eyes that had belonged to Tebrianne Bancroft. It had been their first date. A blind date set up by a friend. Now he found himself singing to a pair of violet eyes - deja'vu. As the song progressed it almost seemed as if no one else was there. It wasn't the same. He wasn't singing to Tebrianne, and he knew that the song was wrong. He finished it, and didn't stop playing.

He strummed and then began a classical piece - pure flamenco. His fingers seemed to be fluid as he progressed into the song. He picked up the pace, really playing, closing his eyes as he let the music flow. And he was sitting opposite Tayla, playing for her, seeing her smile and laugh. The music became gentle again, and he remembered sleeping beside her, holding her through the night and feeling raw emotion. The music came from his heart, and he started to sing again. Eyes closed, he sang a Bajoran love song. The fluid language of Bajor rose and fell through the lounge, full of emotion. He knew that Shirik was watching him. Her eyes were on him, and he felt the same connection, but he didn't know her. Not really. She was beautiful, but she was an enigma. If it hadn't been for Tayla, he would have pursued her with no doubt in his mind.

He finished the song and received more applause, and bowed out of it. As he left the stage he grinned at the faces and carried his drink across to her table. He pulled up a chair next to Shirik and couldn't help but admire her figure. She was gorgeous. Her smile dazzling.

"Hey," he said.

Shirik listened with interest. She was unfamiliar with the songs, and didn't understand the words of the Bajoran one at all, but that didn't matter. Music was still music regardless of language, and his moved her.

Shirik watched him approach, her gaze moving over him. He really did look good out of uniform, with his hair free. She smiled as he joined her. "Hello. Your playing was wonderful, I didn't know you were so talented with that guitar. I'm afraid you'd put me and my sundvas to shame."

"You flatter me too much," he smiled. "Nice to see a friendly face. I'm glad you're here. We can talk...before I go back for another couple of songs. This is the first time I've done this on the Sulu," he said. "I haven't played for a long time."

She nodded, taking her mug into her hands once more. "You'd never know it, the way you played out there," she says. "I don't come here very often, it was just luck I happened to be here when you showed up. I wasn't really sure I'd see you again, after..." She trailed off.

"Then it's a happy coincidence," he replied quickly. "I'm glad you're here, I'm sorry about...." He waved his hands vaguely searching for the words...and sighed. "No...I'm not sorry," he admitted. He looked over the table at her. "I would really like to be friends. I think at least that...I want to get to know you. There's not many people I can say that to. We started out right. I mean, nothing happened...apart from...well, enjoying each other's company."

Shirik smiled faintly. "Don't apologize, Ben. The past is past, let's just look ahead, shall we? I like you. I think you'll make a good friend, and I'd like the chance to get to know you better, too. So let's start with that."

He sat back and smiled. "Thank you, Shirik." He tasted his drink again. He looked across at her. The light seemed to shimmer around her hair like it was a halo, and the contrast against her skin was stark and somehow coldly beautiful. Like space with two violet stars and a corona of starlight. He was staring again. He smiled to himself as he took another drink. "So...why are you in Operations?" He grinned. "I looked up your file..Engineering and Science. You're better qualified than an ops billet surely."

She was watching him watch her, and smiled a bit. It had been a long time since a man looked at her that way. She shrugged at his question. "I just go where they put me. Apparently that's where they felt I was needed on this ship. I don't mind it too much, at least I'm working with the main computer. I've had some repair work to do after the Farehn'ti attack, and I've been doing some upgrades and maintenance work. It's quiet down there, as you noticed, and peaceful. I don't often have visitors."

He nodded. "I think Starfleet Command gave us some decent transfers, multi-skilled officers capable of fulfilling a few roles. We won't be anywhere near replacement personnel for six months with this voyage. It makes perfect sense." He leaned one arm lazily over the chair back as he turned to get more comfortable, propping a booted foot against the leg of the table. "I'm looking forward to this voyage. I was heading out further into Beta Quadrant on the Windsor. We were heading through Romulan space - got to the other side of the Star Empire too. She's still out there, heading further into the unknown. I came back." He sipped the last of his ale.

She nodded as she crossed one leg over the other, likewise getting comfortable. "I noticed the souvenir mug when I was in your office," she said. "So, why did you come back? Were you transferred?"

"No...I requested it," he said with a shrug. "I wanted to come back. I had things to do...but that's finished now." He looked a little sad. "Finished and buried. So now I'm here, and heading back out into a different quadrant again." He laughed softly. "But it has its compensations," he said. "I would never have met Tayla otherwise."

"Indeed," she said, looking down to her now empty mug and pushing it aside, then looking up to flag down a server. "How fortunate." She said nothing more until the server approached the table. "I'd like a raktajino," she said, then looked to Ben to see if he wanted a refill of anything.

He shook his head. His smile faded as her tone had turned chilly. He waited until the ops officer walked away before he said, "I wouldn't have met you either." He sat forward and clasped his hands, looking directly into her eyes. "I'm sorry, Shirik but you and I had dinner - that was all. What we may - or may not have had other than that...I can't say. But I'm involved with Lyrr Tayla...and as I said, we can be friends. I'd prefer to be open and honest. I feel a connection with you - something I can't really explain because it's never happened to me before...but I am in love with Tayla."

Once the server had gone she turned her gaze to him once more. "I am very aware of all those facts," she said. Why did he have to keep bringing her up? "Forgive me if I don't seem thrilled when you mention her, but I see it as a lost opportunity." She managed a small smile. "Life is full of what ifs. It's my own misfortune that I didn't transfer on board a month sooner."

He smiled. "Okay, just as long as it's out there - and you know where I stand." He had almost missed that last bit...and he grinned. "Yeah...well... what can I say." He looked into her eyes and was met by a frank stare. "That's at least being honest - and I respect that. And if I'd had dinner with you a month ago I wouldn't have stood there looking stupid outside your door." He was blushing, but he kept eye contact. "I'd have acted on what I was feeling."

"I believe in speaking freely," she said. She leaned closer, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. "I didn't think you looked stupid," she said softly. "What were you feeling...?"

His mouth went suddenly dry. He cleared his throat, wishing he'd ordered another drink. With a slight smile he said, "Probably the same thing you were feeling."

A small, seductive smile found her lips, and her eyelids drooped just a bit as she gazed at him. "I was ready to ravish you from the moment we left the lounge," she whispered.

His eyes widened slightly at that revelation. He couldn't look away either. He smiled, and that turned into a grin. "Ravish...that's...a strong sentiment," he replied, scratching the bridge of his nose. "I was thinking a little tamer than that." He laughed softly. "You know...that's a hell of a thing to say to a guy." Her smile was almost predatory, but she was sexy as hell. This conversation was going to get him in trouble. He'd met Klingon women with less fire in their eyes than Shirik Lektar. She didn't just warm up to him - she smouldered. "I think I need that drink now."

She laughed softly, waving the server over again. While they waited, she said softly, "I only say what I think. And I think you'd find there's little that's tame about me." She straightened back up as the server came to the table, and sipped her raktajino while he ordered, but her smoldering gaze never left him.

" 'Jino thanks," he asked and she smiled and left.

"You're a dangerous woman," he said when the server was out of earshot. "I like your honesty, it's good that you say what you think, I don't imagine for a moment that you're in the slightest bit tame. Frankly, Shirik I think you're the most beautiful woman I ever set eyes on. But there has to be more than that for me...and given time and alternate circumstances...." He shrugged, the smile still playing on his lips. "I don't make love to a woman because she's beautiful - or because we connected over dinner. There has to be more than that or it's worthless."

She leaned forward once more when the server had left. "That's all right. I don't mind starting with something more tame. Kissing alone would be...very nice, I think." She smiled for a moment. "When we were on the holodeck...you wanted to, I sensed it. I was waiting for it. But now I understand why it didn't come. Which is all right, I understand your situation. That doesn't make me any less interested in you." She paused for effect, and purred, "I like being dangerous...."

"You're right. I did want to. A part of me did. The part that responds to you every time you look at me that way. It's like you're hard-wired into me. I've never felt anything like it. But it doesn't change how I feel about Tayla. I'm glad that you understand." He leaned forward, and lowered his voice. "And it doesn't make me any less interested either." He stood up abruptly. Smiling down at her he said, "Time for another set I think. I'll sing you a song."

She smiled up at him as he stood, his words pleasing her very much. "I'd like that," she said.

He made his way back to the stage. A few people clapped as he sat back on the stool and picked up his guitar. He smiled at the crowd as some of them turned to listen. His last set had convinced them that he was better than Potts. He looked over at Shirik and gave her a smile as his fingers plucked at the strings. He closed his eyes and began to sing. It was one of his own composition, and the lilting melody was complex, but a little sad.

"My love is real," he said. "It burns inside...."

What do I do to make you love me? What can I say to make you hear? All that I have I give to you All that I am is there to see

I am yours As you are mine My love is real It burns inside

What can I do to make you see me? What will it take to make you love me? All that I possess is yours to take All that I feel is love for you

I am yours As you are mine My love is real It burns inside

I give you all that I am My love is yours You are my heart My soul - My passion

I am yours As you are mine My love is real It burns inside

What can I do? How do I make you love me? In the way that I love you

I am yours don't you know Look at me I burn for you My love is real

My love is real It burns inside

My love is real.*

When he opened his eyes and the song died the audience clapped a little more enthusiastically

She watched him, listened to his voice and his guitar. The words though... they made her a bit sad. She turned her gaze to her drink as she listened, pondering. Love. What was so great about love, anyway? All love had ever done for her was keep interesting men away from her bed. It was not something she'd ever known. With a small frown she took a swallow from her mug, then turned back to watch Ben, banishing the frown away from her features.

Her gaze studied him as he sang and played, and she sighed softly. She wondered what it would be like to be in love with someone like him. Someone who intrigued her, sparked her interest intellectually and physically. Someone so multi-faceted, multi-talented. Likely she'd never know. Certainly not until she got off this ship, there was no one else even remotely like him on board. And she knew now that if she could ever love anyone, it would have to be someone like him.

He strummed the guitar and set off into a faster riff. A popular song, modern and sung in a way that made people laugh. He followed it with a lively ballad that had them clapping along before he said goodnight and bowed off the stage.

As he sat down beside Shirik he laid his guitar against the bulkhead. "Well if that doesn't change their perception of their Chief of Security...nothing will."

She was clapping along with the rest when he finished, but that one song was still in her thoughts. She smiled as he sat once more. "It's certainly changed mine. You know, all the talk was about how tough you were, but it seems to me you're more of a softie." She was teasing him, and it showed in her eyes.

"Softie?" He grinned, his tone full of mock menace. "I'll have to teach you the error of your ways! You still owe me a demonstration of your knife technique. I'll show you who's a softie." He grinned and picked up the mug of raktajino that had been delivered for him. Taking a sip he grimaced. It was cold. "Nothing worse than cold 'jino - except maybe cold gagh." He replaced the mug and sat back.

He was slightly winded, the last song had been quite fast paced and boisterous. He wondered what Tayla was doing on the Bridge. She'd be watching the forward viewer, stars Doppler shifting toward the ship. He knew she'd be tired by now. A double command shift was always tiring. Maybe he could do something nice? He smiled knowing exactly what he would do. It would take a bit of preparation. He'd been staying in her quarters since that night...she'd wanted him to stay and he just hadn't left yet. It had been days...and she still wanted him to stay.

"I'm a softie," he whispered at the ceiling. "Great."

She grinned back at him. "Well, then you'll just have to prove to me how tough you are. When did you want to do that spar, anyway? I could use an exercise partner to beat on."

He groaned. "After Alpha would be a good time," he grinned. "Don't expect me to go easy on you - Tayla beats the crap out of me every morning at Springball."

"Are you sure you can take on more beating every evening, too?" she said with a sweet smile.

He sat up and shot a look at her. For a moment she saw a serious look as he contemplated her, then his face split into a grin. "Try me," he said. Then he realised what he'd said. "I have to go easy on the XO - she's got a definite advantage. I can't hit a woman I love." He gave her a teasing grin. "Springball is supposed to be a non-contact sport - I think she just loves to hit me."

She quirked an eyebrow at him at his serious look, then grinned in return. "Can you hit a woman at all?" she asked. "I can certainly hit a man. Just remember you asked for it." There was a glint of humor and challenge in her eyes. Oh, she was going to enjoy that workout....

"I'll take it easy on you, I promise not to hit you," he said seriously. "You are a girl after all."

She laughed aloud at that. "Oh, you know nothing about Rennari women.... Don't hit me, I don't mind. I'll use any weakness you happen to show me." She grinned at him almost wickedly. "And I'll show you I'm not a girl at all."

He smiled widely. "You sure as hell look like one...and just because I said I wouldn't hit you doesn't mean I'm showing you a weakness. You know to a Klingon warrior, such self restraint to an enemy shows courage. Like wearing long hair - to voluntarily allow your enemy an advantage is not just showing contempt for your enemy, but displaying your own courage...and that's not to say I mean any disrespect to you at all. But don't expect anything less of me. I'll take you seriously." He sighed. "I'm hungry," he stated matter of factly.

"Voluntarily allowing your enemy an advantage in a real life or death fight is foolishness to me," she said. "Now, a spar is different. No matter how we bluster at one another, neither of us is going to end up dead, I hope," she smiled. "Go, then, and order some food. I've already had my dinner."

He laughed at her tone, so haughty, a natural order. Permission granted.. "Back in a minute," he said and climbed to his feet. He took a few minutes before returning and when he did it was with a large bowl and a spoon. When he sat she could see that it was piled with a dark looking substance. He dipped a spoon into it and twirled it around, the dark mixture having a smooth texture. He lifted a spoonful to his mouth and ate with relish. "Best thing Humanity ever created - chocolate ice cream." He twirled the spoon for some more. "Want to try?"

She looked at it curiously and cast about in her memory. "As I recall, ice cream is a frozen dessert made from a cow's mammary secretions...?" She looked over at him for confirmation. "It sounds utterly horrid." She paused as she looked over the stuff in his bowl. "What's chocolate?"

"And you eat gagh right?" He grinned. "Taste." He held out the spoon for her to taste some. The wicked glint in her eye was a forewarning and he raised an eyebrow as she leaned forward.

"Oh, heavens, no, I don't eat gagh. I just said I didn't mind it if you did." She grinned. She eyed the spoon, and indeed there was a wicked gleam in her eye as she leaned forward to enclose the spoon in her mouth, removing its contents slowly. She didn't sit back all the way, but let her lips just part from the spoon before licking them with her tongue, watching him all the while. "Mmmmm...." she purred.

It was as bad as he thought it was going to be. Just watching her eat from the spoon was bad enough but the look in her eyes told him she had her sights set on him, either that or she'd become an instant chocolate addict. "Good?" he asked as he sat back, scooping up a healthy spoonful and eating it. She was a very sexual creature. Every movement seemed bent to seduction, and he was helpless to do anything but go along with it. She was interesting, obviously intelligent and had a manner that was at once regal and self-assured, demure and sexy at the same time. A dangerous combination to a man who had spent six months with a ship load of Romulans. It wasn't the same as the dinner though. Benedict was more guarded, even if she seemed to bring out a devilish teasing quality in him. He wasn't this way with Tayla - but then he had to be so careful around her. He had to guard every word and every action, just in case. For the second time he realized that he was enjoying Shirik's company just for the freedom of expression he seemed to experience when he was with her.

He ate more of the cold confection, pulling up his chair and putting the bowl in the middle between them. He'd brought enough for two. "Have some more." He offered her the spoon. "I have to go soon. It's getting late."

She nodded with a smile as she let the cold chocolaty stuff slide around and melt in her mouth before swallowing. It was smooth, mild, and sweet all at the same time, and cold all the way down. "It is good," she agreed, taking the offered spoon and slipping a second scoop into her mouth, just as suggestively as the first. She handed back the spoon with a smile, but it faded a bit at his words. "I know. So do I, actually... Duty calls in the morning."

He nodded. "Early to rise for Alpha shift." He ate some more. Watching her eat could become a consuming pastime. Frustratingly so. He smiled. "Having you for a friend is going to be interesting indeed. I wonder what it's going to be like working with you on Gamma shift during the Nightingale work-ups." He arched an eyebrow. "You know, working together, we'll have to be on our best behaviour - no messing around or giving me sultry looks!" He admonished her with the spoon.

She blinked at him. "Are you suggesting I would be anything less than professional while on duty?" she said, in a tone that made it hard to determine whether she was serious or teasing. Finally she smiled. "I'm looking forward to the assignment. But I didn't know it was going to be during Gamma shift... Any idea when it will start?"

"Nope, haven't been told yet." He smiled. "I wasn't suggesting you'd be anything less than professional."

She smiled. "Good. That means you'll have to keep yourself from staring, too," she teased, stealing the spoon for another mouthful of ice cream.

He nodded. Yes that was true. He was staring, though she was so damned good to look at. "I won't have a problem with that," he said with a straight face. "I'll wear a blindfold." He stole the spoon back and helped himself to another dollop. It was going fast. "I'm really looking forward to working on that project - I have a few ideas that Zareb seemed to like. I'm going to see if they work." He smiled. She was an engineer, she'd understand if explained what he had in mind - but that would take the next couple of hours and he had to go if he wanted to finish what he'd planned for the evening.

She laughed, imagining that. "That might be difficult to explain." She took her turn at spoon stealing for another mouthful. "You'll have to tell me about them later," she smiled. "So then, are we on for tomorrow for that spar? If so, what time and where?"

"After Alpha if you're up for it," he grinned. "And if nothing crops up in the mean-time." He stole the spoon back and took the last mouthful. "I can see you've developed a taste for ice-cream - you have to try chocolate mousse, chocolate soufflé, or just a block of chocolate." He looked at his wrist chrono. "I really have to get going." He smiled at her. "Thanks for the company - again I enjoyed it. I'll see you tomorrow at sixteen hundred. I'll make a holodeck reservation." He stood up and looked down at her. She was lovely, and her smile was electric. "See you." He grabbed his musical instrument and nodded farewell before he set off across the lounge. He gave a parting wave to Stencil for letting him play and exited.

"I'll be there," she smiled. She watched him go, obviously admiring the view from behind, and not really caring who saw her looking. She licked the last of the ice cream from the spoon and pondered over what to wear tomorrow.....

* (Words of the song "My Love Is Real" by S.Griffin Copyright 2003)

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